


Pirates of the Baltic

by Phenobarbital



Category: Hannibal (TV), Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: 1750s, Action, And it's Jack's Fault, BAMF Hannibal, Captain J Sparrow, Captain W Turner, Death, Derogatory Language, Drama, Dubious Plotting, Eventual Dark Will Graham, Eventual Pirate Captain Will Graham, Fantasy, Funny Times, Gen, Graphic Sexual Content, Hannibal AU, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Historical Inaccuracies, Humor, Infidelity, Jack Sparrow's usual shenanigans and melodrama, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Main Character Pirates, Main Character Royal Navy Soldiers, Mild Profanity, Misc Hannibal & POTC characters, Nobleman Will Graham, POTC Canon-esuqe Supernatural Elements and happenings, Pirate Captain Hannibal, Pirates of the Caribbean Verse, Post: On Stranger Tides, Revenge, Rum, Slash, Supernatural Hannibal, Time lapses, Treachery, Violence, Virgin Will Graham, Will Turner deals, shit happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7230367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phenobarbital/pseuds/Phenobarbital
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When nobleman Will Graham is captured by the Baltic Pirate Captain Lecter, he could never have guessed that the man would change his life, would help him become one of the most revered Pirate Captains in all the seas, right alongside Lecter himself. He couldn't have guessed that they would fall in love as fiercely as they did. So when they are forcefully separated one night by the Royal Navy, who find Will and take him back to his former life, it's no wonder that Captain Lecter promises death to whoever was responsible for revealing who Will was to the Navy.</p><p>Years after their separation, Lecter hears of a Captain by the name of Will, a young man who has brown curly hair, light eyes and fair skin, who is the Captain of Flying Dutchman and sails the Caribbean seas, and he sets out to meet the new Captain, hoping that its his Will who has found his way back to the sea. Jack Sparrow gets word of the Baltic Pirates sailing south into Caribbean waters and finds himself dreading the visit from the Baltic Pirate Lord, because once upon time, when he'd been drunk, he'd given up the name of one of Lecter's people to the navy to avoid being locked up himself, and Jack's enemies always seemed to catch up with him in the end...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimed: I do not own Hannibal or Pirates of The Caribbean 
> 
> \- This is something of an experiment for me. I haven't written a Hannibal AU yet, so this is it.  
> \- This is one of the only stories I've written that is not complete pre-upload, so reader feedback may have influence on future chapters to a certain extent.  
> \- This could get long and I hope it'll be fun, but also dark, because it's me, and I write dark stuff.  
> \- I tried to tag everything, but I might have missed some stuff.  
> \- In canon based stories I stick to Will's first name being just plainly 'Will', but due to the time frame, I am making it 'William' in this story.  
> \- Not beta-read, sorry for mistakes.

* * *

"Captain." Margot said audibly as she ascended the stairs leading up to the stern castle deck of the ship. She stopped once she stood level and settled her green eyes on the man she'd been seeking out where he stood at the banister of the high deck with his back to her and his head tilted slightly back. She couldn't see his face, but she immediately knew what he was doing, that his eyes would be closed and expression concentrated and predatory.

He was scenting the air, scenting the water, as he often did, for blood and flesh, as was his way. And she waited patiently and quietly for him to acknowledge her, not daring to interrupt.

Alana stood at the helm, leaning her arms through the handles of the wheel, the ship sailing along at an even, steady pace by her navigation, and she spared Margot a brief glance of greeting, much as Margot did for her.

Margot waited at least a minute before the Captain finally acknowledged her, raising a slender, elegant hand, all leather and gold adorned fingers curled but his index and middle, which he gestured with for her to go ahead and speak.

"Captain," she addressed again, "Tobias has spotted Hudson Bay Company trade ships, they're flying the red ensign and look to be headed cross seas, south westerly, likely enroute to Port Royal." she paused, glancing out at the ocean in the mentioned direction before looking at the Captain again, "Orders to let them pass or to seize their vessels, Captain?" she asked evenly, the wind lightly ruffling the loose strands of her long sun bleached, braided and tied back hair.

The Captain then inhaled deeply of the sea breeze that moved over them, the wind catching the black crow feathers and fine bone charms on the one side of his black wide brim hat, on the other end of which sat a decorative, shrunken human skull, held in place by red silk ribbon and fine gut stitching.

Alana glanced at the Captain after hearing Margot's announcement, her bright red painted lips twitching into something of a smile as she and Margot both wondered what their Captain smelled in the air right then.

They knew that if the ships were heading to Port Royal or New Providence, then it would not only have something valuable and worth stealing on board, but it would also have English government and noble passengers, the sort that the Captain of the Baltic Ripper had a specific culinary taste for.

The Captain turned around to face them, a small smile curving his lips up just so on one side of his angular face, his carmine red eyes filled with mirth as he looked from Alana, his sailing master, to Margot, his boatswain,

"We should most certainly say hello, yes? After all, it's only good manners." he absently ran a hand down his laced and embroidered black leather waistcoat, worn over a blood red silk shirt, stitched up to fold below his elbows at the sleeves, with leather pants and buckled knee high, black cavalier boots, "Seize, plunder and purge, kill who you must…and anyone else as well." he finished with a dark rumbling tone, a pleased lilt to his accented voice and a grin full of sharp teeth.

"Aye', Captain." Margot nodded with a smirk, the next gust of sea wind whipping her loose hair across her face.

"Aye' Captain." Alana echoed, and then she nodded at Margot, who turned to face the rest of the ship and visible crew on the main deck below,

"Stand ready, crew, sails ho!" she said loudly, her voice carrying, "We're taking the Hudson ships!"

There were audible cheers of agreement before Alana voiced commands to the general infantry of the ship,

"Steady course and full sails, by the wind." she demanded, intent to get the four-masted ship up to full speed in pursuit of their soon to be victims, and the crew on the ratlines and on the main deck immediately rushed to carry out her order, seeing to the rigging and the sails while the rest of the crew ran about retrieving weapons and preparing for the fun –and slaughter- ahead.

Before Margot descended the stairs to the quarter deck, she had one further question,

"Captain Lecter," she waited as the man paused in unsheathing his spyglass to look at her, "orders to signal the rest of the fleet, or do we proceed forward alone?"

Lecter smirked sharply and turned to glance beyond the aft of the ship, to the four other Baltic fleet ships that sailed under his black and red Ripper flagship colors, the Baltic's; Dragon, Shrike, Muskrat and Mongoose.

"How many company ships are there?" he enquired as he clicked the spyglass out the rest of the way.

"Two, Captain."

"Only two…hm." he considered, wetting his lips slowly before he raised the spyglass to his eye and looked out in the direction of the distant white company ship sails. After a moment he said, "Signal them all the same," and he kept smirking as he watched the ships in the distance, "I wouldn't want them to miss out on the fun."

Margot chuckled, raising her eyebrows,

"Of course, Captain." she nodded and then descended the stairs, crossing the deck and heading in the direction of the halyard, where she would raise the flag to signal the rest of the fleet that they were sailing with purpose.

Once across the deck and with a smirk, Margot attached the blood soaked devil tongue cut piece of cloth to the halyard and raised it up by its rope pulley, and she watched the fleet ships in the distance until she saw their blood flags go up as well.

* * *

When William Graham, the eighteen year old son of an English nobleman, the Duke of Lincolnshire, was standing on the poop deck of the Hudson Bay Company ship, on which he was travelling to Port Royal in order to visit with his mother there, he was distracted from the pleasant cool sea air ruffling his dark chocolate curls and irritatingly flicking back the pages of his book, by a dark shape seen in his peripheral, just a short distance aft of the large ship.

It didn't alarm him, though wondering what it was made him curious enough to look away from his book…

…and then alarm did creep up his spine when he squinted at the dark shape on the water, when he saw it _properly_ and clearly for what it was, his breath hitching and his heart rate speeding up in shock.

And while he distantly knew that it was only partly fear he was experiencing at the sight of **five** red and black sail **pirate ships** heading straight for them, another side of his senses was flooded with adrenalin and **excitement**.

Will dropped his book from his lax fingers, as it was now the least interesting thing to him, and it hit the wooden deck with a thud. His dry mouth opened and closed in stunned wonder as he watched with wide sea-green eyes as the five ship fleet came upon them quickly, so quickly, at a speed he'd only heard legends tell of, and only legends of very _specific_ pirate vessels.

But despite knowing all the tales, short and tall, Will had never yet seen a pirate vessel in real life, in fact, his father kept him so busy, educating and guiding him every day for his eventual duties of a Duke, that this was only the second time Will had ever even been at sea in his life.

But he'd always loved the ocean, he loved sailing…and he'd always been fascinated by _pirates_ …

That being said though, his heart rate still spiked even higher and he let out a soft noise of worry as his excitement ebbed away and panic settled in, because pirates were _dangerous_ and pirates _killed_ people like him, noblemen and the like, and he was on an obvious government vessel with only very few armed soldiers of the company onboard.

And certainly Will knew that despite his –above average- swordsmanship, he couldn't kill very many seasoned and murderous pirates on his own, maybe one or two…but…

"PIRATES!"

Will flinched, his thoughts scattered horribly when he heard the lookout yell the warning. His reverie of fear and intrigue broken, Will glanced back and looked at the rest of the crew on the deck below, watching with wide eyes as everyone onboard became frenzied, looking out over the banisters fretfully at the oncoming fleet as the commodore yelled out orders to his few men, the helmsman immediately taking direction to get the ship turned around so that they were starboard.

Will could hear orders yelled to prepare the canons, even as there were more orders to try and outrun the ships.

Lost and purposeless aboard a vessel he was only a passenger on, Will turned back to look at the approaching pirate vessels, and as he did a quick calculation of how fast they were coming up, he _knew_ instinctually that it would be futile to try and outrun them. The narrow, long pirate ships with massive blood red and black sails were cutting through the water at incredible speeds, and they'd be upon the company's ship in minutes.

With a shaking hand, Will reached under the back of his midnight blue shirt, confirming that his knife was there, sheathed and strapped to his black breeches.

As the shouting increased onboard the ship, Will quickly removed his knee length coat and tossed it on the floor, wanting as much mobility as he could have, should he need to fight because he…was…

"Gods." he breathed out in amazement and fear when he looked back out over the water at the pirate ships again.

He could see them far more clearly now, and he saw now that the foremost pirate ship, the flagship, was near enough that he could make out what adorned the prow of it.

Morbidly enrapt, Will walked nearer to the banister of the high deck, setting his hands on the polished wood as his gaze fixated on the figurehead of the flagship, and his breath stuttered from his mouth…

…because what he saw was terrifying…and _beautiful_.

Painted black, like the rest of the main pirate ship, the figurehead looked to be a black bone and skin, wooden carved demon-like creature, with empty eye sockets, sharp bared teeth, long sharp talon like fingers and massive crooked antlers that stretched out intimidatingly from the prow over the water.

Will swallowed with a tense click and exhaled shakily, having broken out in a cold sweat as he blinked rapidly at the main ship, his knees beginning to feel weak with more prominent, tangible fear…because he recognized what he was seeing.

He'd heard tales as a boy and as a man, about the Demon of the Northern Seas, about Captain Hannibal 'The Cannibal' Lecter, Captain of the Baltic Ripper who led a legion of blood-lusting pirates, the feared Captain whose flag bore the face of the horrific mythical Wendigo Demon. And true enough, amidst the massive plain and stark blood red sails of the flagship, Will saw –with increasingly spastic breathing- the demon Wendigo flag flying in the wind.

He was so distracted with staring up…and up, at the ever nearing massive sails, that Will only belatedly realized that there was now a group of soldiers and crewmen who'd come up onto the poop deck and were arguing behind him. He turned around with a deep frown to look at them, out of breath and slightly disoriented by the lingering image of the Wendigo coming alive in his mind's eye, and when he focused on what they were saying, he realized the crewmen were arguing about him.

They wanted to get him to safety, onto a long boat with the rest of the crew that were not armed or soldiers. But one of the admirals was arguing that it wasn't safe to flee in a smaller vessel that had no weapons or means of defense, arguing that the main ship had cannons and that it was far safer to stay onboard.

Will ran a hand over his face, wondering whether he should weigh in, or whether they'd even listen to him, but he didn't get a chance to say anything, because when one of the frightened regular crewmen shoved a soldier out of his way in a sudden panic, things went suddenly very wrong.

A struggle ensued between the men on the deck before him, a gunshot went off, fists were thrown…and then the last thing Will remembered was taking a misdirected elbow to the face before he was knocked backwards and right off balance...

…flipped backwards over the banister, and with a pain shooting through his face, Will fell into the sea mere seconds before the flagship pirate vessel sailed up on the attack.

* * *

Will came to with something prodding painfully into his side, and he groaned at the dull soreness of it, as well as for the throbbing pain in his face. His consciousness returned to him slowly, increasing as he heard sounds of laughter, harsh voices, booted steps on wood, people talking in snippets and foreign languages and the familiar sound of water lapping against the sides of a ship.

For a moment he kept his eyes closed, breathing heavily in disorientation, he assumed that he was still on the company ship, remembering having been hit in the face, a sharp headache inducing pain having gone through his head at the time, making him black out suddenly.

But then that dull _thing_ jabbed his side sorely again and Will grunted softly and was forced to open his rolling, burning eyes, forced to take in deeper breaths as he hurt in several places from scrapes, which stung from the salt water. And realizing that he was wet from the sea forced Will to acknowledge that the people standing over him, where he was lying on the floor, on the black deck of a ship, with an aching face, were not company men or soldiers, and so he knew that he'd gone overboard at some point in the chaos.

He could only swallow dryly and frown as he tried to sit up,

"What…w-wher-…?"

"Finally, the boy's awake." a raspy male accented voice spoke, an accent Will didn't recognize, but when Will cut his squinting gaze to him, the look of the skinny man with scraggly short hair and haphazardly thrown together clothing of cloth and leather and non-uniform weapons, immediately visually informed Will that he was in fact a pirate. Probably a foreign pirate at that…

 _'Oh…n-no…'_ he immediately thought as it all flooded back into his memory; the pirate ships attacking and specifically _which_ pirate ships they'd been.

And then all of the accents of the pirates talking above and around him made more sense, and Will frantically scrambled to sit up, looking up and from side to side at the people standing over him, his dangerous predicament starting to become clearer.

They were northern European pirates, _Baltic_ pirates…Captain Hannibal Lecter's pirates.

The pirates were laughing at him, staring at him with sneers, men and women alike as he trembled lightly, more from nerves than the clinging, cool ocean water. Will curled up against the gunwale of the ship, absently making sure all of his limbs were accounted for as he discreetly slipped a hand behind his back and under his shirt in hopes of finding his knife still there. They laughed some more at him when he realized his knife was no longer in its sheath and his eyes darted up to glare at them, and then his gaze drifted further up to take in the stark blood red and black sails looming overhead, seemingly even more intimidating now against the darkening sky than they had been in the early day…

 _'Oh God, how much time…has passed?'_ Will panicked even more and averted his eyes back down, keeping his gaze on the dark wooden deck so that he didn't have to look at anyone, hoping they wouldn't see his distress. He tried to keep his breathing calm and his expression flat as he remembered that it'd been early in the day when the pirates had attacked, but right then sunset was already passing, and from that, Will felt it was realistic to assume that the company ships had been overrun, looted and likely destroyed, easily sunk.

And of course they had, going up against a fleet of superior ships like the Baltics, but then, did that mean there were hostages? Or was it just him-…?

"We should just cut his throat and throw him overboard! What would the captain want with a scrawny thing like him?" someone asked to the group at large and there was harsh laugher from several of the pirates before another person spoke, a male voice younger and lacking a distinctive accent, he sounded vaguely English,

"The captain will likely put him to work, or perhaps sell him back home as a slave." he commented, sounding awfully flippant about it.

"No," a woman's voice cut through the laughter, making Will tense up and everyone fall silent, "he is nobility." the woman announced, her accent was vastly different from the others, far more pronounced and definitely not European. Will kept his eyes down as she went on, "See his expensive clothes?" she asked the group, her tone calm and articulation precise yet not crisply understandable, "Remember how the men aboard the company ship called out the name of a man that they couldn't find. How they scrambled, worried, armed, wanting to find and protect him…" she sounded as though she was giving a lesson to everyone listening to her, and Will hated that she knew what, if not who, he was, "…he is the man they were looking for. Someone…important to them, to their Lords and Ladies, Governors and Dukes." she fell silent, all of the pirates quiet too, and Will held his breath.

He clenched his jaw, body tensing when someone stepped closer, likely the authoritative female, and now that she stood close enough, Will could see her black low heeled, suede boots just a few feet away,

"Am I correct, Mister Graham?" her voice had a questioning lilt on his last name specifically and even though it sounded like she was asking, her tone was demanding and Will knew that ignoring her would be a bad idea. So slowly, he tracked his eyes up over her long, lean pant covered legs and dark cloth wrapped torso until he was looking into her severe, sharp, unsmiling face and dark slanted eyes.

His gaze locked with the narrow eyes of the striking Asian woman standing over him. She was wearing a captain's hat on her head, with a long black coat over her well-fitting black and gold intricately embroidered cloth clothes, looking down at him with effortless condescension. As he held her gaze, Will could imagine what she'd seen after he'd been knocked overboard from being hit the face; he could see how everyone would have scrambled to find him, yelling his name, looking for him so that they could try and protect him and get him to safety as the pirates laid siege to the ship.

They'd have been calling his name clearly for anyone to hear…the fools.

"You intend to hold me for ransom?" he asked her plainly, voice a little rough from swallowed salt water, and he was secretly amused at the useless idea of the pirates asking his cold, stingy father for money to turn him over.

They'd get exactly nowhere with that plan of action.

He was thinking clearer now, the initial shock of being a hostage to the Baltic pirates, the most feared pirates on many seas across the world, fading fast as reality set in around him. He got his feet underneath him, using the gunwale to assist him as he moved to stand up. In an instant, several –no doubt sharp and well used- swords were half unsheathed and others fully before he was even standing completely upright, and two of them were raised and pointed to either side of his vulnerable neck threateningly. Will trembled as the blades glinted so closely, but he steeled himself and stood up to his full height, keeping his chin raised slightly as the swords followed.

Standing up properly, he was easily taller than the female captain, but shorter than most of the other pirates, the majority of which, Will noted, were men of various nations and races.

The female captain shifted her stance casually, adjusting her hold on the long musket she was holding,

"Not I, no." she shook her head once, dismissively, unconcerned, "And perhaps not even Captain Lecter." she glanced to the side when she said that, and Will did then as well. His eyes widened and his blood rushed when he saw there, some distance away, beyond the bow of the ship he was presently on, there was a much larger black ship with completely blood red sails and the Wendigo Demon figurehead on its prow, floating on the dark water. "But it is his decision to make of what will become of you, not mine." she added, giving Will a slow once over when he looked back at her.

Will swallowed tensely, feeling the cool sharp steel of one of the blades resting just barely an inch from his bobbing adam's apple. He regarded the female captain again, belatedly becoming aware that he was not on the flagship, and from his years of reading up and being told about pirate attacks and legends and stories, as he took in the appearance of the severe Asian female captain, Will realized something,

"You…you're Captain Murasaki, of the Baltic Mongoose?" he asked surely, knowing there were four sub-captains in Lecter's fleet, two men and two women. And since he'd heard tell that the female captain of the Baltic Shrike, Abigail Hobbes, had empty, cold blue eyes and a deceptively innocent appearance, it stood to reason that the woman before him right then was Captain Chiyoh Murasaki.

She raised her eyebrow, appearing bored with him,

"Yes." was all she said, and then she turned to address a large man standing just behind her, "Prepare a boat, we'll take him to the Ripper within the half hour." she ordered. Then she looked to the two men holding swords to Will's throat, "Don't let him out of your sight, and if he tries to run…" she looked at Will and smirked, "…cut his throat and throw him to the Blood Current."

Will watched numbly as she gracefully turned on her heel and walked away, her boots clipping along as her pirates gave her a clear berth to pass, before the excess crew departed as well.

Will felt his stomach shake and his heart beat fast and sorely in his chest, but he was relatively calm on the outside, not wanting anyone to know that he was afraid.

Especially after what she'd just said…

…Will knew what the Blood Current was by its myth, which, now he realized, maybe wasn't a myth at all.

The Blood Current was the supposed power held by Captain Hannibal Lecter, the dark power that he wielded like the demon that he –allegedly- was, which enabled him to smell blood spilled in or over the ocean water for miles, like some sort of super shark or advanced superior predator.

Will clenched his eyes shut and banished the frightening –and vividly alluring- imaginings he had of blood blooming in vast bodies of water, of a dark skinned demonic being, slick with liquid red, breaking the surface.

He abruptly opened his eyes and took several deep breaths in through his nose, glancing around at the lingering pirates watching him, and seeing that they were all larger than him and substantially armed, he decided that he wasn't going to do anything stupid to get himself in any more trouble. Despite being uncertain of whether he'd rather die before meeting the feared Captain Lecter or waiting it out to see where fate landed him during or after, he wasn't going to act irrationally, if an opportunity to escape presented itself, he'd take it, but he wouldn't be hasty or impulsive.

If he could acquire a weapon, Will was relatively certain he could take the two pirates holding swords to him, after all, he was a trained swordsman of no small talent. It would just be a matter of careful planning…or at least, that's what he'd thought. But then Will heard the sound of heavy steel manacles dragging across the deck and he saw a pirate approaching him with the restraints, grinning at him, he knew then that he would not be making any quick escapes, let alone any painless ones.

* * *

Will was left on his own to struggle up the rope ladder with the heavy manacles on his wrists, up the side of the ship and then onto the black, almost too clean, deck of the Baltic Ripper. And his entire awkward struggle had been much to the amusement of the two pirates accompanying Captain Murasaki and escorting himself.

It was pitch dark by that point, the sky a cloudless and inky black over the dark open ocean, filled with bright stars and brighter moonlight, and the massive red sails that were presently being hoisted by the pirate crew of the Ripper, preparing to make sail, looked near black as well in the shadows, making the vessel almost invisible against the backdrop. When they'd been crossing the water, Will had been unable to help staring at how ominous and darkly picturesque it looked, macabrely thinking that it wasn't a half-bad image to die inside of.

Presently, they were on the main deck of the Ripper, and Will was being manhandled by either arm to walk across the deck toward the stern castle, until they were intercepted by a young slender woman with long dark multi-tonal hair, which was plaited and tied to one side of her face with wisps and loose strands dangling in her face,

"Captain Murasaki." she greeted Chiyoh evenly, even as she looked at Will with curious big green eyes.

"Margot, I need to speak to Hannibal." Chiyoh stated flatly, the name said with easy familiarity.

And hearing it made Will look from Margot to Chiyoh in surprise, trying to gauge their reactions because he'd honestly believed that no one would speak so informally of Captain Hannibal Lecter, but was apparently wrong.

Margot smiled mildly, looking equable and confident as she placed a hand on her hip,

"He's in his quarters," she raised an eyebrow slowly, "and its dinner time." Margot pointed out with a raised eyebrow. Something told Will that the latter half of her statement was some kind of heads up for Chiyoh, and immediately the thought of that warning coupled with the fact that Captain Lecter was a known cannibal, sent a shiver down Will's spine…

…although, he noted with a light frown, that the nature of the shiver felt very slippery, obscure and inappropriate to him. It was something like fear, but was also born of morbid and dangerous allure and curiosity, the sensational shiver repeating itself through his nerves and over his skin when Will imagined vividly, the scene of Hannibal Lecter eating someone alive behind his closed cabin doors, with teeth much like that of the figurehead demon at the prow of his ship, long and sharp, fine and shark-like.

Will swallowed thickly when it occurred to him that it might even be one of his own former guardsmen that would be clinging to Lecter's teeth right at that moment, and he felt terribly warm, tense and vaguely shocked by his own morbid amusement at that idea. He had to force himself not to smile, snort or laugh like a total loon in front of his captors.

"I'll be sure to request his pardon for the interruption." Chiyoh commented evenly to Margot, without a hint of telling inflection in her voice or expression on her face, before she turned to look at Will and her crewmen, "Wait here." she said firmly to them and then walked away, past Margot and toward the back of the ship deck, to where the doors to the Captain's quarters were located.

They all watched her go for a moment, before Margot turned to him and looked him over slowly and with open curiosity. And Will thought of many things that she might be about to say, an insult or a question of who he was, but what he hadn't expected was a congenially offered statement of,

"If you're going to meet Captain Lecter, remember to mind your manners," she smiled almost kindly, "or he may just have your tongue right from your mouth before you can use it to properly offend him." she added calmly, and then walked away with a light step and natural sway, leaving Will blinking rapidly after her.

He swallowed tensely and closed his eyes against the vivid imaginings of the shadowed, faceless form of Hannibal the _Cannibal_ in his mind, leaning in close, sealing his open mouth over Will's own in a mockery of a kiss and then biting his tongue out, breathless, bloody, wet and warm…violent and intimate.

Will shivered again, feeling hot and cold and paling as well because that time he was certainly as afraid of the possibility as he was intrigued.

Sadomasochistic or just disturbingly twisted; Will was both anticipating and dreading meeting Hannibal Lecter.

At least though, not all was lost, because he still felt the urge to fight and flee, but when he opened his eyes again on a tense exhale, Will glanced at the two pirates flanking him and then at the chains around his wrists, weighing his arms down at his front, he saw no way out of his predicament. Because while his legs weren't chained, he knew that trying to escape with the weighty manacles would be futile as an option when the only place that he could run to was the open water, and that would mean a certain, sinking, drowning, cold death.

No, that was not to be his plan of action.

Deciding to actually take note of his present surroundings, Will glanced around and watched the organized bustling going on, on the large ship's main deck, the bright moonlight illuminating the fairly well put together pirates on board the Ripper as they carried out their various duties.

Will had heard stories relaying that Captain Lecter was cold and cruel, but that he was fair to his crewmen, fleet members and countrymen, and Will had heard that he apparently had undying loyalty amongst his people, from the pirates he commanded, to the average men of the lands that he hailed from.

According to what Will knew from hearing soldiers, fellow nobles and governmental people talk over the years, the Baltic Sea and its surrounding countries of Sweden, Polish-Lithuania, Prussia and Denmark, were all partly governed by Captain Lecter, his total dominion over his home seas and partial leadership on land set in place and honored because of a treaty that Lecter had long ago signed with the leaders of the Baltic countries. And as per their agreement, they left Lecter to do as he saw fit on sea and in certain places on land, and he did likewise with them, never interfering with the Baltic countries business, merchant ships or unrelated politics. It was something of a mutually beneficial agreement.

But while Lecter only reigned with actual lawful power in his own small part of the greater seas and land, he made up for his lack of political sway in every other ocean by striking fear and respect into any and every one he came across. It was one of the main reasons that while Lecter was loathed in the greater, dominant lands, he was not actively hunted by other governments, because he was dangerous and was said to have more pirates in his full-fledged fleet than any other pirates –and some small governments -on the seas, and so countries feared going to war with him.

Yes, Lecter was hated and revered and his name was known across most of the known world, from the Dutch East Indies, to Ile Sainte-Marie, as far as Port Royal and to the East Ocean to the West, people and pirates everywhere feared him. Certainly, the Caribbean pirates were dangerous too, some violent, some mystical, some treacherous, but mostly they were considered a nuisance and were disdained, because many were just drunken fools when they weren't thieving, or were just simple every day criminals seeking refuge and freedom in becoming pirates.

The various Berber pirates were feared too, but the worst of them were from the southernmost countries. Will had heard gory tales about the tribal pirates actually, as they were mostly ritualistic people who were savage and knew only violence, generally making blood sacrifices of anyone they abducted from the ships they'd loot, any and all hostages offered up to their many disturbing Gods for various reasons and in various, torturous ways.

And the Asian dynasty pirates were well known, but mostly as being dishonorable and traitorous to any deals they made with foreign pirates, only trusting their own kind, while the aboriginal pirates trusted no one, not even one another, always fighting amongst themselves and never managing to sail very far because of their conflicts.

Of all the pirate stories and legends Will knew of though, he'd always found tales of the Baltic pirates to be as fascinating as he had frightening, having spent many moments in his life wondering what such a fearsome and dangerous man –or 'demon'- such as Lecter, might look like. Will had often imagined that the infamous Captain Lecter would be severe, harsh and possibly grotesque in some way, perhaps something like the rumors Will had heard of the way Davy Jones looked…something like a real, cursed monster.

But Will knew that Lecter had to be intelligent and cunning and persuasive along with being intimidating and terrifying, because how else had the Baltic pirate captain struck such a deal that led to him becoming the only pirate ever who was considered equal with official lawmakers?

He was a pirate, a criminal, a murderer and cannibal, but also a _ruler_ , a resume that was unheard of anywhere else in the world. In fact, Captain Hannibal Lecter was a ruler of rulers, and really, Will found it hard to believe that he wasn't something entirely _other_ to have established such strong agency and infamy in a world that condemned pirates. And as awful as it was to be intrigued and fascinated and impressed by it, Will honestly found himself feeling all of those things.

Will had always wondered about the Baltic pirates, about Hannibal Lecter specifically…he had always wondered if he truly was a demon in a man's skin or if he was just so evil that that's what people had come to see him as.

And he was even more curious about what the man was like now that he'd heard Murasaki refer to Lecter so informally by his first name. Will had never thought he'd ever be in a position to actually _meet_ the man though…

And he should have been more afraid of the reality he was facing in meeting such a dangerous pirate, but Will never had been normal or conventional in his thinking, feeling and behavior. That was actually one of the reasons that his father had kept him mostly isolated growing up and had been so adamant about keeping Will occupied with work and duties when he'd come of age…

…ever since that one noble Lady, at that one social function had called him 'creepy' –at twelve years old- when he'd pointed out that her perfume reminded him of funeral incense, the way that his diseased uncle's embalmed body had smelled when he'd been to the man's funeral as a boy. He'd smiled when he'd told her that.

And his lips curled into a queer smile right then at the memory of the woman's affronted expression. He was staring absently across the deck as he smiled, but he blinked out of his distant thoughts when the doors to the Captain's quarters beneath the stern castle deck opened, the doors through which Chiyoh had disappeared earlier and presently, she was reemerging from. Will settled back into the there and then, swallowing tensely and standing up straighter as he watched Murasaki shut the door behind her before she began approaching.

His daydream completely shattered now and seeing the serious expression on Murasaki's face, Will focused again on what his possible options were to survive whatever awaited him. First and foremost, he needed to escape at least one manacle so that he could have a free hand, but he'd have to do it at exactly the right moment if it was going to be of any use to him. And then he'd be able to use the heavy chain and cuff as a weapon to gain the upper hand, maybe to strike someone unconscious, or choke them out.

Although, honestly, Will wasn't sure whether he'd stand a better chance against Captain Murasaki and her two crewmen, or against just Captain Lecter by himself, but he doubted it'd be the latter. And glancing at the two pirates flanking him with renewed consideration, Will quickly determined that neither idea would end in his favor.

When she was close enough, Chiyoh stopped in front of Will and grabbed the chain that was between the manacles on his wrists, tugging him forward roughly to walk with her, the crewmen following as well as they all headed in the direction of the Captain's cabin.

Will felt himself start to tremble slightly again with each step, once again he was both afraid and anticipating what awaited him. When they arrived at the doors, Will was expecting that they'd go inside and that he would then be the subject of conversation between Murasaki and Lecter, while he would just be standing aside, ignored hopefully long enough to slip the manacles. But what actually happened, was Chiyoh opened the door to Lecter's cabin and then shoved him through the door…inside, **alone**.

The door was closed behind him with finality and Will froze, standing rigid and shaken just inside the moderately warm, large and very neat personal space of one Captain Lecter. Will didn't move away from where he stood, choosing rather to cast his wide eyed gaze around the lavish, spacious quarters as he inhaled the smell of a rich, distinctly male musk blended in with the scents of books, food, smoke, leather, wood, metal and salt water that permeated the room. There were two small windows open, which Will knew likely overlooked the ocean view from the aft of the ship, suspended a high distance above the water, and through the windows a slight breeze let in some cool evening air, making the fire lamps set up around the space flicker softly.

On one side of the room Will saw a large berth covered with fur pelts, cottons covers and pillows of red and black silks. There were rugs on the floor by the bed, and the curved walls of the quarters were lined with exotic decoration pieces and well stocked bookshelves, the contents of which were probably mostly stolen. Across from where Will stood were more stocked bookshelves set behind a large ornate desk, atop which were scrolls, laid out blueprints of plans, maps and beautiful detailed drawings of foreign places. There were also varied inkwells and quills with elaborate feathers of birds Will likely would never see in his lifetime, along with drawing charcoals and graphite pieces, an unrolled map of the Spanish Main with ship markers set upon it and a few more expensive decorative objects filling the space.

And finally, despite being nervous and reluctant to look, he was also far too curious, so Will trailed his eyes to the other side of the quarters, his gaze passing over the paintings and sketches pinned to the wooden walls, over the large wine barrel with an _Avignon, France_ merchant shipping stamp on its side. At that point, Will sensed that he was being watched, so after a tense swallow, he held his breath and turned his head to look over at the dining table, which was laid out with decadently prepared and delicious looking and smelling dishes; bowls and plates of food and glass decanters of alcohol. And there at the table, sitting near the far back wall in the head seat of the six chair dining table, Will's eyes inevitably fell on the man whose quarters he was standing in; Captain Hannibal 'The Cannibal' Lecter himself.

The man was reclining back in his seat and sitting slightly more to one side, his long, black leather clad legs crossed one over the other at the knee. He had one arm rested on the table beside a half empty plate of rarely cooked sliced meats, and in his other he held a crystal wine goblet which he was lightly tilting from side to side.

Will let out a short tense breath and inhaled slowly as he unblinkingly took in the sight of the man he'd spent much time in his youth trying to imagine, finding himself both relieved and enrapt by the fact that Lecter appeared to be so absolutely human. The man was lean and broad shouldered, likely solid and fit in musculature beneath his clothes. He wore a dark red silk shirt, the shiny texture of which softly reflected the candle light, and the sleeves of which were folded up so that the loose laced cuffs sat just below his elbows decorously, showing off the fair skin and strong lines of his faintly veined forearms, which were adorned with leather ties, bone wrist jewelry, amber stone charms and unusual rings.

Will swallowed with a soft click as he tracked his eyes back up to the Captain's face from the tips of the man's boots. He'd been avoiding eye contact until now, but when he gave in and looked, Will found eyes the color of rich burgundy wine placidly regarding him. He only held that intense yet calm gaze for all of a second before he had to look away, and he instead tracked his eyes over Lecter's angular face and up to his hair, which appeared to be a dark blonde-brown in the shadowy lighting, and the straight fall of which was haphazardly brushed back from his face, leaving it to fall untidily on his head and in pieces around his damnably _attractive_ face.

And dammit, but the man was gorgeous. Will had not been expecting _that_ after hearing tales told of an evil, psychopathic cannibal who hunted people by their blood scent in the water and sometimes on the wind.

It was disconcerting to see him now, to find him so handsome and human, especially for Will who had for the longest time kept his frowned upon sexual proclivities for the same sex to himself, and had intended to continue to do so for the rest of his life.

Except it was hard to hide it right then, because he felt too warm, more than a little flush, his natural, carnal sexual interests piqued and stirred up at the sight of an impressive man who was unlike anyone he'd ever encountered before. And it was beyond inappropriate to be thinking and feeling that way about Lecter considering his precarious situation, but he really couldn't help it…

…and there was no way that he was imagining the slowly forming, curved and handsome smirk on Captain Lecter's face as the man watched him with amusement, convincing Will instantly that the pirate somehow just _knew_ what he was thinking. Because hell, if Lecter could smell blood in the water and air, then surely he could smell the heated blood in Will's veins, coursing in a rush and deviating specifically south.

 

 

Will clenched his fists so hard that his nails pinched his palms, trying to bring himself out of the heady stupor of overwhelming sexual masculine energy in the room, and when the manacles clanked on his wrists, the fog over his mind and senses cleared somewhat and he felt more grounded, reminded that he was a hostage and his situation was distinctly hostile. He needed to keep that in mind first and foremost, he needed to stay focused and stay in the moment and-...

"It's incredibly rude of you," Lecter spoke, startling Will out of his panicked thoughts with his lilting, smooth foreign accent, his English clear and understandable all the same, "to step inside my cabin and gawk at me as you are," his smirk became sharper, "without even having the decency to greet me first." Lecter informed evenly, swirling the liquid in his goblet before drinking from it.

Will distractedly watched the man's adam's bob as he swallowed, before he shook his head and frowned, blinking nonplussed. Then he registered what the pirate had just admonished him for, and he recalled Margot's words of warning and Will decided quickly that a little self-preservation strategy might keep him alive long enough to attempt an escape, so politely he said,

"My apologies, Captain Lecter," he exhaled a bit loudly and quite shaken, "good evening to you." and he tried not to sound like he was clenching his teeth in between words, but he was, so he did.

Lecter continued to smirk and Will remained standing by the doors, too warm and very tense, as the man slid his eyes over him slowly and appraisingly from head to toe and back up again.

And that time, when Lecter's wine red eyes met Will's sea green, their gazes held,

"Your name?" the pirate Captain enquired conversationally.

"I'm certain you already know." Will answered unthinkingly, too curtly, and then he literally gulped when Lecter's smirk fell away and his red eyes darkened almost unnaturally.

No, actually, it was definitely unnatural, since his eyes appeared black now.

The only comparison Will could make was that Lecter's eyes resembled that of a shark's, and Will felt his stomach drop out and his skin prickle with very real fear.

So…right, okay, if he was truly in the company of a demon of some kind, then perhaps he should watch his mouth?

Yes, indeed, that would be wise.

"Will…Will Graham." he answered as calmly as he could with a tight, strained tone, averting his gaze from the Captain's unsettling black eyes.

"Just Will, or William?" Lecter asked without missing a beat, and Will heard the soft sound of the goblet being set down on the table.

He took a deep breath before answering in a steadier voice,

"William, but I…I prefer Will." he said honestly, not that it mattered anyway.

There was a moment of quiet, filled with the noise of the ocean and creak of the ship, and then Lecter asked,

"What is your noble title, where are you from, where were you headed onboard the Hudson Company Ship?" he asked all of the questions sounding rather bored. And Will suspected that he knew the answers, because he'd raided the company ship and likely had all of its sailing log and passenger information.

Still, he was being asked questions and it was _polite_ to answer, so, staring at the floor and thinking it was probably a test of his honesty, thinking that Lecter might know if he was lying, Will didn't attempt to when he answered,

"I am Earl Graham, son of The Duke of Lincolnshire, and I was sailing from England to Port Royal."

"Business, pleasure or education?"

Will shifted on his feet, his gaze still down on the floor, the manacles were weighing heavy on his arms and making his back ache and his wrists burn from the beginnings of chafing,

"Leisure, actually," he said softly, "to spend two months in Port Royal, visiting with my mother and aunt."

"Do you have any relations within the Royal Navy?" Lecter asked in a curious but firm tone.

And Will didn't dare look up, feeling dread set into his gut at Lecter's inquiry, because that was the important question. The answer to which only Will could provide, and would determine Will's true worth to the pirates.

Because technically, Will was an important person, being not only the lone son of a wealthy, influential nobleman in England, heir to a substantial fortune, but he also had family in the Royal Navy, an uncle and cousins.

Will's father had had aspirations for him to one day become a member of the Royal Navy Marines too, but it was something that Will had never had an interest in, another thing that he'd disappointed his father in. Because while he loved the open water, Will was not fond of law enforcement, even just the idea of living so regimented and under such scrutiny made him feel trapped and suffocated.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Lecter asked in a tone that suggested Will would regret making him do so.

"Yes…" he said immediately, unthinkingly, and then realized how it sounded and he snapped his head up to meet Lecter's black eyes and deathly still gaze, "…I m-mean, yes, to your previous question." Will rushed to clarify, "Yes, I have an uncle, Admiral Frederick Chilton Graham and two cousins, Captain Matthew Brown and Commander Brian Zeller, all in the Royal Navy." he answered honestly.

Lecter regarded him for a silent moment then and Will felt unable to look away from his unsettling eyes, even as the firelight cast further unsettling shadows over his angular face and the breeze filtering in through the windows ruffled both of their hair, all the while Will barely managed to blink, and Lecter didn't even seem to need to.

As he stood stock still though, Will was aware of the itch on his skin from the dried salt water, and also his legs felt weak and his breath shorter the longer Lecter sat watching him, looking into him with lightless black eyes, and Will's fate dawned on him miserably with every passing second.

Will couldn't know what Lecter was thinking, but he suspected the pirate Captain would want to hold him for ransom as he'd originally assumed. And Will knew that his father wouldn't pay, his public reasons would be that he would never negotiate with pirates, so he'd call on their relations and contacts in the navy, and whatever ships could be spared would be set out in search of the Baltic pirate ships in order to attempt a rescue and attack on the pirates, and people would inevitably die when it happened, the majority of which would not be pirates.

Honestly, the Royal Navy had trouble keeping the Caribbean pirates in check, so Will knew that there was no way that they could hope to take down Lecter and his fleet. Will knew from the many tales he'd heard, that while Lecter sailed with only his main ships, back on his home seas, he had many, many more ships and loyal pirates who followed him. Rumors and stories had often terrified listeners with tales of the Baltic pirate fleet being more than a thousand ships strong, all of which sailed seamlessly through the northern frozen seas like blades in the water.

And if the stories were true, and they probably were since Will saw now that Lecter was more than a man, then the Royal Navy didn't stand a chance in war if Lecter decided to meet their violence with his own…which he would.

"You seem deep in thought," Will started at the spoken words and then back stepped in shock, refocusing quickly to find that Lecter was standing just a foot away from him now, "do share?" he prompted.

And Will panicked –because he hadn't heard the man move- and with the sudden close proximity, his instincts to protect himself reared up unbidden. Without a second thought, Will forcefully dislocated his thumb –painfully- and slipped his hand free from the manacle.

He had intended to swing the manacle up to strike the pirate Captain, but it was not to be…

The second Will slipped his hand from the cuff, Lecter moved whiplash quick, snatching the chain and forcefully yanking it up, spinning Will around with the momentum and then wrapping the chain length around his throat as if it required no effort at all to manhandle him like a ragdoll.

Will was stuck then; his back pressed to Lecter's chest, chain wrapped once around his neck just tightly enough to pinch sorely and threaten strangulation, his still cuffed hand was pulled up uncomfortably to twitch uselessly beside his own face while his –aching- freed hand was caught at the wrist, held across his own middle by Lecter's firm grip, his warm hand clenched tight enough to bruise Will's skin there.

It was almost bizarrely like an embrace. A violent embrace. And yes, Will was very, very twisted to think so.

But with the length of Lecter's body hard and firm and hot against his back…with the gorgeous, dangerous man smelling so good, scents of that deep musk mixed with a coppery blood, metallic tang and leather and the heat all together, it assaulted Will's senses and he shivered bodily, wetting and pursing his lips in anger at himself and against the burn of yearning. Of course he was afraid and panicked…but he was also quickly becoming aroused.

Will began to tremble in earnest then, unable to help the feelings now, he was scared, turned on and ashamed.

Lecter held him fast, Will knew that he could not move an inch and if he attempted to kick backwards, Will was certain the chain around his neck would pull taught enough to crush and kill. He was at Lecter's mercy, and yet his blood careened through his veins like fire…having never felt so alive as he did right then, on the cusp of death, in the arms of danger.

"I do admire your _violent_ instincts to protect yourself, Will," Lecter spoke in a low rumble, rolling the L's in Will's name with distracting sensuality. And being as he was slightly taller than Will, the pirate's breath ghosted over the shell of his ear and down along his cheek, over his salt sticky skin, clinging, "not hardly the fragile little thing one would expect you might be as a result of a noble rearing." Lecter sounded amused.

Will shivered as all of the sensations of Lecter's closeness infiltrated his mind and heated his core, and he clenched both of his fists at the awkward angles they were trapped in, trying to clear his head as he breathed heavily and shaken, his smooth cheeks red with blush, his arched nostrils flaring with every harsh inhale.

Lecter licked his lips, Will heard the soft wet click of it and felt the sliver of moisture against his ear and he made a noise somewhere between dismay and breathlessness as his body reacted to it with more traitorous warmth.

"Curious thing, young Will, that in this moment…you smell potently of desire." he pointed out silkily, confirming that Will had assumed correctly; Captain Lecter could smell his blood and its current concentration perfectly well.

All the same,

"I do **not**." he denied it because he had to, his breath stuttering and his stomach churning with shame.

"I wonder though," Lecter spoke on as if Will hadn't said a word, "whether it's because of the threat of violence I represent, the vulnerability you are experiencing under the weight of that threat, or perhaps," he pressed himself more firmly against Will's back, "it's just because of me, as a man who appeals to your reticent sexual inclinations." Lecter spoke quietly, just short of mocking. And Will felt it when the man smiled with his teeth, because the smooth ridges grazed over the cartilage of his ear, "Or perhaps, it's all three." he said with a voice like gravel and sex, sounding quite certain of his assumptions.

And Will tensed at the truth of it and tried not to focus on the firm press of Lecter's hips and chest and lips.

Lecter chuckled, soft and darkly, the sound moving around the room like the flickering candlelight shadows.

Will _needed_ to say something, needed to be more than a mess of repressed hormones and dark urges in that moment, he needed to say something coherent,

"H-he won't pay…my father…" Will forced out, as good a place to start as any, even though his tone was far from steady. He glanced to the side, but he could only see licks of Lecter's fine hair in his peripheral, "…he'd never make a deal with a pirate, any pirate, even you…especially **you**." Will clenched his teeth, breathing harshly, the skin of his neck aching sorely where it was pinched between the chain links, "He'll set the Royal Navy upon your fleet before he even bothers to determine whether or not I've been harmed…whether or not I'm actually still alive." he said honestly, uncaring of how bitter his tone was and how much of his poor relationship with his father was revealed in his words.

When Lecter said nothing, apparently listening to what Will had to say, he went on,

"My father can make another heir, he is young at 39 years and my mother younger still at 36. I'm only 18 and I've already disappointed my father more times than he can sincerely forgive," he paused, swallowed tensely, "I've become more of burden to him than a source of pride by this point, so losing me would be of no great consequence." he admitted with a raspy break in his voice, remembering all the times his father had looked at him with irritation or indifference, and he closed his eyes against the ugly hurtful truth of his own words.

It wasn't a life he'd miss...now that he thought about it.

Lecter hummed, low and long, and the soft vibration of it raised goosebumps on Will's sticky skin,

"I would take great pleasure in devastating the Royal Navy's ships, should they set an attack upon my fleet," the pirate Captain admitted openly, a smile in his voice, "but then…perhaps you are not worthy of the trouble." he added placidly, the humor, sensuality and teasing gone from his voice, replaced with a crisp, clear-cut seriousness.

Will's breath hitched and he felt a tug of hurt in his stomach, because really, while it was mostly true, it wasn't nice to hear it, especially not from the mouth of a powerful, important, complete stranger like Hannibal Lecter, someone who didn't even know him but still saw him as worthless. It made Will both angry and resigned.

He remained silent then, having nothing more to say, he waited for Lecter to decide his fate.

Will felt Lecter nudge his nose into his sticky mess of dark curls and he heard the pirate inhale lightly, making Will shiver again and exhale shakily. When Lecter spoke again, his tone was silky and thoughtful,

"My options then are; I can take the gamble of requesting payment for your life from your wealthy family and enjoy the subsequent compensation or the bloodbath that will ensue." another grin then, which Will again felt against his ear, "Or, I could spare myself the trouble and let them assume you are dead, in which case, I'll just kill you here and now…" Will's audible and sore swallow at the threat made Lecter chuckle, "…I'm certain you've a healthy, meaty heart that would taste nothing short of divine, when ripped from your chest, eaten raw and still warm with blood." Lecter's voice was somehow simultaneously sexy and horrifying when he said those last words.

And Will made an embarrassing noise, blushing darker as he was rushed with feelings of both fear and fascination, manifesting on his skin as sweat and within his loins as torrid arousal. Lecter tightened his hold then and inhaled more obviously against the pulse point of Will's throat before eliciting a strange and pleased noise followed by a tense silence in which Will nearly sobbed from the suspense.

"Or perhaps…a third option." Lecter unexpectedly said in a low tone, and Will frowned. He was tense and confused, breathing uncontrollably loud and hyperaware of Lecter's body and breath and voice and likeliness to kill him at any second without hesitation, "Yes…I could let them assume you died at sea when the ship sunk…" he sounded almost distant with thought, "…and then I could keep you, here, aboard my ship…"

"…wha-…" Will breathed out, baffled by the sudden change in ideas.

"…and I'll teach you how to let go, to embrace the darkness that lurks within you." Lecter said more clearly now, no longer distant or distracted, his voice lowering to a sharp whisper when he continued, "You'll die a nobleman's son at sea, and be reborn a pirate," Will felt short of breath, frowning deeply, "you'll _become_ more under my guidance, than anything you might have imagined yourself capable of, young Will. I'll make you a predator among prey." Lecter said it like a promise, and Will's heart was thunderously loud in his ears.

He didn't even realize that he'd leaned back into Lecter's embrace until the man shifted so that his pelvis pressed once firmly to Will's buttocks and Will's mouth fell open slightly on a hot breath as his cock stirred in earnest at the suggestive sensation,

"Indeed, Will," Lecter said sensually, "I think that fresh blood spilled from the veins of men by your hand, would smell exquisite on your sweet skin." he finished huskily.

Will only barely suppressed a moan, losing whatever composure he'd been holding onto more and more with every breath and touch and sensual word from the pirate Captain. Will had never been with anyone sexually, least of all a man –which was actually the very thing that he wanted, the truth which his father suspected and likely loathed most about him-, and aside from a clumsy kiss with a maid girl when he'd been 15, he had no experience to speak of, and he was so sexually pent up as a result, that it was really the farthest thing from funny.

Especially right then, being in that situation, having Hannibal Lecter's body pressed against his and the man's breath in his ear and on his skin, Lecter being so attractive and dangerous and sexy an-

"What say you, Earl Graham?" Lecter asked hotly against his ear.

The Lord of the Baltic Pirates, Captain Hannibal 'The Cannibal' Lecter, the Demon of the Northern seas who navigated the Blood Current, was asking such a weighted question of Will, with an air of light amusement as his long fingers stroked lightly over the back of Will's hand where it was being held against his side.

Lecter was asking Will if he wanted to forsake his family and former life, to join his crew and become a pirate...

…a feared pirate, someone significant and dangerous and with a purpose…and freedom.

And hadn't all of those things been dreams that Will had spent many years thinking about as a boy, before his father had isolated him away from the world within their estate, insisting upon Will career interests and work and lessons and talk of betrothals and future political obligations day after day?

Yes…yes they had…Will had always wanted to be free…to be powerful and feared and in control…yes…

"Yes…" Will breathed out, closing his eyes slowly, only to open them again with more determination burning in the seawater color of them, "…yes, I want to join your crew, Captain Lecter." he leaned back just a little more into the man's firm hold, "Yes, please." and he meant it, Will wanted it.

"Excellent." Lecter said in a smooth, devilish voice, no doubt wearing a smile of teeth to match his tone.

There was barely a moment to take another breath then, before all at once, the chain was unraveled from around Will's throat and he was abruptly spun around and gently pushed a step back from Lecter's presence, his warmth, his hard body. In half a daze, Will blinked slowly and shifted on his feet for better balance, and then he felt a tug on his still manacled wrist, followed by a 'click' and a 'clank' and when he looked down, his wrists were now both unfettered, the manacles lying on the floor at his shoe clad feet.

He noted irritably that he felt cold without Lecter's body against his…

Lecter.

Will looked up at the man standing a foot or so away from him, seeing that Lecter's expression was inscrutable, his eyes a dark red now, no longer shark-like, the shadows settling over parts of his face eerily, cast by the candlelight over his angular bone structure. His posture was intimidating, the long line of his body revealing that while he was lean, he was also undoubtedly dangerous. In that moment, Lecter appeared to be every bit the feared man that he was rumored to be, unapproachable and cold and _other_. And Will knew that he was technically free to leave the cabin then, and yet he didn't make any move to do so.

Until Lecter gestured to the manacles lying at his feet, a wordless instruction to pick them up,

"Go now," he said curtly, "find Bedelia and inform her of your choice to join the ranks, you'll be properly suited and set to work aboard the ship." he instructed in the tone of man long used to giving orders and being obeyed without question. He was all business, the persuasive, silky tone completely absent, leaving Will wondering how much of everything that had just occurred may have been part of his imagination…perhaps he was concussed?

When Lecter turned around and walked back to his seat at the dining table, snagging a bright unrecognizable fruit from a bowl and biting into it as he sat down, Will knew instinctively that he'd been dismissed.

Feeling twitchy and uncertain and inexplicably unmoored, Will crouched down to pick up the manacles, and as he carried them out with him they clanked noisily, masking the sound of his tense breathing. Once he was outside the Captain's cabin and Will had closed the door behind him, he leaned against the stern castle staircase, took in a long breath with a deep frown on his face…and he _trembled._

He felt too young all of a sudden, lost and confused, not sure what had just transpired…had he really just-…was he now-…did he still have a soul? If Lecter was a demon, had Will just made some irrevocable deal with him?

He shivered as the cool sea air moved over his sticky, hot skin,

_'What the hell just happe-…'_

"Not dead, ey…?" Margot's voice interrupted Will's train of thought and he turned around quickly to face her, nearly dropping the manacles from his shaking hands. She smiled placidly when he looked at her and then she tracked her eyes down to his unbound hands and cocked an eyebrow, "I see." she said wispily and met his eyes again, "Well, don't just stand around uselessly, sailor." her tone became firmer then, "Bedelia is below deck, she's the Quartermaster, she'll tell you where to, when to, if, how and why to." Margot stated, and it was clearly an instruction, "Go on." she added when Will didn't immediately move.

Will wondered then just what her rank was on The Ripper.

He didn't ask though, too tired and wary to bother right then, he simply nodded. And then, still carrying the manacles, Will walked across the deck to the doors that led down into the lower levels of the ship to find whoever Bedelia was so that he could begin his life as a pirate.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Apologies for the delay, but since this is one of my 'type as I go' stories, delays tend to happen. ヽ(￣д￣;)ノ  
> \- Not beta-read, sorry for mistakes.  
> \- I hope everyone enjoys :)

* * *

Left to find his own way, after hesitantly enquiring after Bedelia's whereabouts from a few crew members he'd passed and receiving askance and hostile looks, grunts and vague gestures of directions, Will finally made his way down to the Quartermaster's quarters, to a specifically separate level below the Captain's quarters. And upon seeing her, he found that she was simultaneously not what he would have expected Captain Lecter's Quartermaster to look like, while at the same time being extremely fitting as just that.

She was older than Margot by a few noticeable years, age lines around her eyes, mouth, on her neck and hands giving it away, but she was no less attractive for it, with thick, pale blonde hair, the length of which was twisted, knotted and braided, all gathered over her left shoulder, while her bangs were pinned back from her face with what looked like handmade bone accessories…not unlike the bone pieces adorning Lecter's jewelry.

Animal or human bone, Will had no idea.

Her clothes were all dark colours, a deep brown and loose linen blouse with black high waist leather pants and scuffed rope tied boots and while she didn't look severe like Chiyoh, she had a certain presence about her that wasn't so much intimidating, as it was effective in making the atmosphere around her seem cold and unwelcoming.

She was sitting at a desk presently, the room adequately lit by oil lamps as she wrote something with a dark inked quill onto a half rolled piece of parchment in fine cursive. And still minding his manners for the sake of caution, Will approached the desk with slow but audible steps, his low-heeled leather buckle shoes clipping softly against the wooden floors; his intent being for the noise to announce his presence.

And sure enough, when he was a few feet away from the side of the desk, Bedelia raised her head slowly and her gaze a moment later, and Will stopped walking once she was looking at him with pale blue eyes. She blinked once before she tracked her eyes over him from bottom to top, obviously appraising his state and trying to gauge his reason for being there without asking, but all of it without even a hint of curiosity on her stoic face.

When she was done sizing him up, she met his eyes again abruptly, and Will found himself staring into a sedate, bored gaze, but only for a brief moment before Bedelia looked back down at what she was doing, and moved to dip the tip of her quill back into the ink well.

"Why are you here?" she asked in a voice that was articulate and deep, yet still distinctly feminine.

Will hadn't known what to expect when meeting the Quartermaster, so the direct question threw him off, and he opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again, licking his chapped, salty lips as he glanced down at the heavy manacles clutched in his dirty hands.

For a moment, he felt a deep bitterness as he looked at the chafed skin on his wrists and the grit under his nails, knowing how unseemly he must look; every bit the prisoner he was, having been fished out of the water, captured wet, vulnerable and unconscious, and was now disgruntled, scruffy and dirty from inadequate drying, rough-handling and mistreatment.

And his wounded pride and feelings of humiliation made him consider telling her the entire story, letting her know exactly who he was and how he'd come to be there, letting her know he was not a lost man seeking refuge, not an outcast of society found stowing away, or a homeless boy desperate for food and a place to lay his head…he wanted to let her know that he was considered more important than her in the eyes of anyone who mattered, even as he stood before her presently, looking like riff-raff, wearing expensive –though soiled- clothes, that she was more than likely to just assume was stolen.

But then Will's anger deflated as he realized that the people who mattered in the civil world, in polite society, didn't matter to pirates, and more importantly…he didn't matter all that much to the people who deemed themselves important in that civil, polite world.

He may not be homeless, a criminal or a stowaway, but he was an outcast, one who'd never truly fitted into that civil world of noble people and navy men. And Captain Lecter had, beyond all the more likely scenarios that should have played out, offered him a new start as a pirate, one that, instead of reducing him to little more than a title and depending upon the importance of family lineage, would give him the power to forge a new life for himself, the chance to be truly free.

Lecter had even said he would help Will become a predator amongst prey.

And it was that thought that helped Will find his voice, that made him answer Bedelia's question quite simply with,

"I'm here to join the ranks of the Baltic Ripper." in a tone that was quiet but firm, sure of mind.

And Bedelia's only response was to pause in her writing, look up, and raise an eyebrow at him.

* * *

As it turned out, and really, he should have expected it, Will had to _earn_ his place among Lecter's crew.

So in the first month that Will lived aboard The Ripper, he started out as all crew hands do, assisting with swabbing the deck, learning about rigging and carrying out other menial but necessary tasks, and in that time he became more and more familiar with the crew on board the Baltic flagship and the Captains and crew of the other four ships in Lecter's main fleet too; learning very quickly that the Pirate Lord of the Baltic Seas ran a very, _very_ tight operation.

The five ships sailed liked clockwork for one, always in excellent sync, all orders given out and followed to the T, and the ships were also excellently maintained. Will had found it hard not to be amazed in the beginning.

The small, but not insignificant fleet, had goal oriented headings and they accomplished all matters of business they set out for with nary an issue most of the time; the good and bad alike, always making sure of the continued and smooth operation of the pirate fleet was kept up.

* * *

By the third month, Will had mastered the general duties he was set to do on the ship and was considered an A.B.S, a regular member of the crew at large. And it had been through difficult and strenuous work that he'd acquired his official placement.

One example of the changes he'd undergone was physical, he'd never had excess weight, but in the few months of the everyday grind and physical labor, Will had become leaner, but with firm muscle filled out in his arms, chest, abdomen and legs, and while he kept his curls clipped to a reasonable length, he allowed his facial hair to grow in as much as it would, which left him with a beard thicker than stubble but far from hairy, grown in over his face.

He'd also acquired a tan, which started out as too-red skin in the early days and eventually settled into a nice healthy glow that he was told, by Alana, looked good, but could not glean for himself as he hadn't been near a mirror in a while.

But it didn't even matter, because he felt good, he felt free…he felt happy.

Overall, he'd become comfortable aboard the vessel and had also become familiar with everyone, and friendly even with a specific few crew members. Namely; Margot, the ship's boatswain, Beverly, the Master Gunner, Alana the navigator and Jimmy, the ships carpenter, they were the four of the crewmen who he actually got along with. Beverly was friendly, funny, smart and dangerous, and Margot was all of those things as well as deceptive and shrewd. Alana was cruel and cunning beneath a veneer of kind smiles and keen intelligence and Jimmy was straightforward and lively, always with a sense of humor at the ready.

With the excess of the crew, Will was as congenial as he could be, and really, there were only three members that he didn't see eye to eye with. There was Tobias, who didn't seem to get along with anyone, and Freddy, who was far too forward and enjoyed going around calling Will 'Earl Graham', regardless of the fact that Will had long since considered his status and last name lost to the sea.

He was just Will now, and nothing else, but Freddy was a bitch on her best day, and Will tended to just ignore her.

Then there was Bedelia, Captain Lecter's –technical- second in command.

She was cold and detached and spoke very little to him.

As it was, she always held her own in any situation with only her presence, and while Will didn't have a real problem with her, she seemed to dislike him plenty.

Mostly just because she didn't see why Captain Lecter kept him around, he supposed.

And yes, about Captain Lecter.

Will had questions about his reasons as well. That first terrifying night, the man had spoken as though he had specific intent for Will joining his crew, but in the three months he'd been on the ship, Will had only seen Lecter on occasion, for fleeting moments, but hadn't spoken to him again even once.

On some level, Will suspected it was because he was just a regular part of crew, an ambitious upstart in many ways, having to speak with Lecter's elected people in power if he had anything to say and not ever to Lecter himself.

But Will sought to change that, and Will had an idea of how to do that.

First, he needed to get Lecter's attention, and ultimately he needed the man's respect and acknowledgement.

* * *

By a half year on board The Ripper, Will had been on many raids with the Baltic pirates.

He'd helped them loot and dominate and destroy, and of course he'd taken on an injury here and there in the process, having learned the hard way that pirates didn't fight fair or care for honor or even using their swords, knives or pistols in the right way, basically anything was fair game in a fight with a pirate.

So Will had had to get used to that, and after a few near broken bones had healed and bruises had faded, cuts had scarred over and black eyes had gone down in swelling, he was far more proficient at improvising during fights.

He'd broken and used to injure, all manner of furniture, decoration, debris and whatever was in reach at the time, on and using people; he'd used shoes, mops, pipes, oars, beer mugs, books, a woman's corset and one time even an unattached wooden leg when it came down to fighting.

And it was exhilarating _every time_. The wild abandon of it all.

Will found he often wondered how he'd ever believed he'd been living before he'd become a pirate.

And fortunately, somewhat unsurprisingly too if he was honest with himself, his former life hadn't caught up with him. No matter where they sailed or made port in the waters around Europe, there was never any talk about Earl Graham being searched for, or anything of the like, so Will had to assume he was presumed dead.

Just in case he wasn't though, he knew he would likely not be recognized too easily anyway since his appearance had changed quite a bit since he'd become a pirate. Aside from the fact that he'd become marginally more muscular and had grown out a fairly decent –though still rather tame by other pirates standards- beard, Will also had a few scars which made him look rougher and wilder; a stab wound in his right shoulder and a bullet graze on his other, a narrow slash across his abdomen and two cut scars on his face; on his forehead above his right eye and across his right cheek.

He had also acquired his own wardrobe and weapons using his cut of their valuable bounties, and he now dressed in all black, all the time and carried a flintlock pistol, a curved dagger and two deadly sharp arming swords. His ever -gleaming weapons went well with his black leather pants, or linen on occasion, worn with black shirts in his favored style of eyelets and laces down the long sleeves and down the front, for adjustability. And he'd taken to wearing a black sash and weapons belt round his waist too. Finally, much like Captain Lecter did, his outfits were always complete with knee-high leather buccaneer boots.

Will knew his somewhat elaborate look had defined him as 'fancy' amongst the majority of the crew, who mostly seemed comfortable dressing down and often being dirty, and that now, he was noticeable, recognizable even, by his clothes almost immediately. And that had been the intention since he refused to disappear into the background as he always had in his past. He'd been nobility certainly, -a rather fashionable member of polite society before- but he'd never strived to stand out before, whereas now he'd found the perfect way to blend the two, pirate and nobility, into a solid and good look. He was a _refined_ pirate, much as their Captain and a few of his main crew members and other sub-captains were, and that was what he wanted to be.

Also, Will knew he just looked plainly good.

Many people noticed, and when they'd make port for a night here and there in common pirate frequented places, Will would always get looks and advances of interest from both women and men, whores and other pirates alike. Yes, many people wanted to take him to bed, and he found himself often turning people down, women without violence –mostly-, and the pushier men with daggers to their crotches.

Thus far, his virginity, as it were, was still intact, and although he'd admit it to absolutely no one, Will was holding out for someone, someone who'd made his blood turn to fire within minutes of them meeting for the first time, someone who smelled like blood and danger and smiled like a shark. That someone was Captain Lecter, and ironically, he was the one person who seemed impervious to the changes in Will since he'd become a proper part of the crew.

The older man had since taken to giving him the occasional order directly when Bedelia, Margot, Alana or Beverly were too busy, but aside from that, Lecter never looked at him or even seemed to notice him.

It was frustrating for Will, not knowing what he was doing wrong, or whether he even was.

Being ignored so consistently had given way to Will doubting, to thinking that perhaps Lecter had only encouraged him so…boldly, that night, because he'd wanted a new crew member, perhaps the seduction was part of his persuasion?

"We'll be upon our home soil by the dusk." Beverly said with a pleased sigh, drawing Will from his musings. He looked up at her from where he stood leaning against the gunwall of the main deck, and his gaze followed her as she leaned beside him, the breeze passing over them and ruffling his untidy, sun bleached short curls and her knotted, braided and loose long black hair.

She was cutting slices out of an apple, presently chewing on one piece as she offered him another on the blade of her knife.

Will understood 'home' to mean Poland-Lithuania, or at least that's what he'd heard everyone talking about in the last month of sailing. Apparently they'd return there and settle for a time, which was a strange notion as Will had always known pirates to be sea dwellers. But then, the Baltic pirates had always been the exception in every tall tale he'd ever heard told.

"And what, I wonder, shall we do there, and for how long?" he asked her, taking the apple slice and crunching on its crisp and juicy flesh, enjoying the sweet-sour juices spilling over his tongue. It was summer in the North and Will was used to the weather being comfortably warm and only sometimes too hot to be outdoors.

Of course, since becoming a pirate, he'd learned to adapt to the weather far quicker, and his skin was no longer so sensitive when sunburned.

Beverly shrugged, glancing across the deck at the various crewmen doing various things, and then up to the stern castle deck, where Alana stood at the ship's wheel with Margot just behind her, holding her from behind and whispering lover-like secrets into her hair.

"As we usually do," she looked at him again then, "we'll exchange profits for privileges and protection for money with our government authority, and then go to our homes. Families will be waiting for those who have them," she smirked, looking pleased, "others will remain in the crews quarters on the ship, and everyone will spend a few weeks, maybe a month or two, on land before we head back out." she cut another apple slice, "It'll be enough time for the men to leave their women pregnant so they'll have something celebratory to return to next time, and enough time for the other men and women to seek out their own pleasures." she said casually, casting a wink at him.

Will listened with a raised eyebrow and half smile on his face, amazed by how domestic it all seemed, the Baltic pirates' lives on land almost sounded civil and normal.

Beverly, noticing the curious amazement written all over his face, laughed good-naturedly,

"Don't think on it too much, Will, you've only met a handful of the fleet as it is. I promise we have many of the rowdy, drunken, promiscuous, fiend-like pirates you've heard tell of in your sheltered past." she sliced another piece of apple for him, "Captain Lecter commands many hundreds, but sails primarily with few and only those who he finds he can tolerate without killing them." she informed offhandedly, sounding amused as she handed him the slice on the blade of her knife. And Will suddenly felt quite privileged to be a part of the main fleet, blinking owlishly at her as he took the apple piece.

"Baltic pirates don't turn away men or women seeking freedom, no matter your nationality or race, so long as you can be loyal and don't indulge in detestable behaviors such as slavery, rape, discrimination, prejudice and the like," she raised her eyebrows at him, "Lecter and the Government authority with accept you." she said around the next mouthful she was chewing, "If you screw up, however, the only punishment is death, the process of which is entirely flexible" Beverly grinned.

Will blinked and then raised both of his eyebrows, swallowing the piece of apple he'd been chewing,

"No wonder the rest of the world both dislikes and fears the Baltic region."

"Yes, we are a sovereign nation and we don't take prisoners or anyone's shit," she looked at him and smiled warmly, " and once you are a part of us, it doesn't matter where you came from, you are considered family. Especially if Captain Lecter personally chooses you." she pointed out, giving him a knowing look.

Will couldn't help glancing to the Captain's cabin doors then, absently remembering how he'd felt a thrill and shiver of fear when two months ago he'd witnessed for the first time, Captain Lecter choosing his _meat_.

They'd captured five prisoners off an enemy pirate vessel sailing and making trouble in the wrong waters. They'd been Middle Eastern pirates and Will had expected them all to be killed as he'd seen done quite a few times since being on board The Ripper; random crew men would slit the prisoners' throats and toss them overboard for the sharks and the Blood Current.

Will would even see Captain Lecter scent the air once their bodies were in the water and it would fascinate and intrigue him to watch the man's eyes shift to black and then back to blood red or a warm maroon, convincing Will many times over that Lecter was in fact, not human, or at least not entirely.

And it had seemed to bother no one, so he pretended it didn't bother –or fascinate- him either.

But that particular time, with the Middle Eastern pirates, when they'd been lined up on deck, shackled, guarded and injured from a bloody, violent battle, their ship seized and taken over by the Captain of the Baltic Shrike, an alarmingly young, but vicious girl named Abigail, Captain Lecter had walked up to the prisoners and subtly sniffed the air near each one.

And Will had witnessed it then, watching the men tremble almost knowingly as Lecter's nostrils had flared slightly on each sniff as he paced between them, considering. And then finally he'd settled on one of the men and he'd smirked before pleasantly and casually saying; "Y _ou're lungs are healthy, as is your heart, I imagine they'll be delicious when paired with a well-aged wine."_

Will had felt lightheaded, vaguely nauseous…and very turned on at the time, especially when Lecter had dragged the man down, begging and kicking, to the kitchen to _personally_ take and prepare his meat. The screams had ended soon after, quite abruptly and Will had thought back to a rumor he'd heard, that Lecter ate hearts raw and everything else cooked, and the image of Lecter taking a bite out of a raw, warm and still beating heart had made Will masturbate almost desperately that night in his hammock, hidden behind a curtain of thick, dark cloth he'd erected himself to gain some privacy from the other crewmen.

It said a lot about his state of mind…but he hadn't even been asha-…

"…-ancy the Captain?" he caught the tail end of Beverly's question and snapped his gaze back to her,

"…what?" he frowned, feeling warmth burning the tips of his ears.

She tossed the apple core over the gunwale, into the dark blue water and turned to face him proper, leaning her narrow hip against the gunwale,

"I asked if you fancy the Captain?"

Will blinked...blinked again, and then opened his mouth, only to close it again when he felt his face get warm too, and dammit, he really wished he didn't have such ridiculously juvenile reactions to such topics.

Perhaps he needed to have sex with someone random and be done with it, just to move past the shyness and blushing that came with inexperience.

"You do, I know." she said almost nonchalantly, "I guessed it a while ago already…" she added and Will gaped at her, baffled by her words, "…you stare a lot." she shrugged, leaving that as her explanation as she wiped the blade of her knife off on a piece of cloth hanging from her leather belt, before sheathing it again.

Will exhaled unevenly and dropped his gaze, seething at himself for being so obvious, because if Beverly noticed then others would have too, and probably –definitely- Lecter himself.

"He won't have you." Beverly said flatly and Will looked at her again, frowning, realizing she knew something that he didn't. He mentally hesitated to ask, but the words were out of his mouth before he could help himself,

"Why not?" and it didn't matter that he'd basically just confirmed what she suspected, because like she'd said, she already knew, "Does the Demon Baltic Pirate Lord not have desires of the flesh, or are they strictly affixed to the fairer sex?" he honestly wanted to know.

Beverly snorted at him,

"Don't look so angry, Will, it isn't anything like that." she said dismissively, glancing at the Captain's doors before looking at Will again, "From what I've seen since being a part of the crew, whenever the Captain has taken anyone to his cabin bed or any other with intent to sleep with them, it has been both men and women, he doesn't seem to have a specific preference." Will felt jealous and irritable, and not remotely relieved by this information, "But, it is on rare occasion that he takes anyone to bed at all. The Captain has trouble tolerating people in general, and finding bedfellows who he's willing to allow into his personal space, I imagine is a difficult task."

They stood in silence for a moment then, staring at the clear horizon, and at length Will asked,

"Has he been with anyone I know, or anyone amongst the crew or the fleet?"

Beverly shook her head,

"Nope, and that's why I said he won't have you." she patted his shoulder roughly, "I don't think Captain Lecter sleeps with crew or fleet members, business and pleasure and all that." she shrugged facially, "Anyway, I have work to do." she nodded at him and turned to leave.

And Will sighed, frowning at what he'd just learned, about to slip back into his moody thoughts when Beverly said his name and he turned to look at her where she stood a few feet away.

"When we get home, do yourself a favor and drop your anchor for once." she suggested a bit loudly, making a few members of the crew look over at him and snicker, and Will just rolled his eyes and turned back, blushing, to lean on the gunwale.

* * *

Poland-Lithuania and the specific city of it that the Baltic pirates called home, was a pleasant, wealthy and bustling place. The people were interesting and multi-racial and they welcomed him as if he'd been coming there all his life. Will met many, many more pirates that very first night on land alone than he'd met since sailing as one himself, and he found he had never felt so much like he fit in anywhere in his life as he did among the Baltic Pirates and people.

That same first night, those who didn't have families, ie: the larger portion of the crew, Beverly and Jimmy included, all headed to one specific place and they dragged Will along.

Their heading turned out to be a large, lavish building that was a pub, eatery and brothel all in one, which was called; Froideveaux's, and catered specifically and _only_ to the Baltic pirates. The man who owned the place, a short, rotund man named Franklyn Froideveaux, was pleasant enough, if a bit too overzealous in his friendliness and his need to be acknowledged and liked.

And when he heard that Will, the newest crew member, had been handpicked by Captain Lecter, the man practically exploded with interest, immediately taking Will by the arm and showing him around, rather specifically showing and pointing out to him his selection of men and women available.

"For Captain Lecter's immediate crew, the first night is always on the house, so please, pick anyone you like and indulge, enjoy, feel free." he'd beamed at Will, red faced.

He'd hovered around Will for at least twenty minutes after that, trying to convince Will away from the food and drink and to pick a prostitute, and only pissed off from being a bother when Lecter himself walked in the door. At that point, Will might as well have never existed.

But Will didn't care about being brushed aside, just as he brushed aside one of Franklyn's recommended girls who had been clinging to his arm and feeling over his chest…because Will too, had become acutely interested in the fact that Captain Lecter was not only in the whorehouse, but seemed interested in its wares.

Will moved from his place near the rowdy bar to sit down in the nearest table seat available, only vaguely aware of another prostitute at the table trying to get his attention with a hand settled high up on his thigh, as he watched Lecter and Franklyn exchange words across the bustling room. And then he frowned in consternation as he watched Franklyn call someone over, not a working girl, but an assistant who was dressed only marginally less scant, and he told her something, which she rushed off to sort out. After she left, Franklyn appeared to try and make small talk with Lecter, who looked plainly hard pressed to humor the stout man.

Will glanced around for the assistant then, curious and bothered, he took his eyes off Lecter and Franklyn long enough to spot her where she'd gone to fetch a young man who had just entered the main room of the brothel, looking fresh and primped, as if he was _prepared_ for something, for someone. He looked older than Will, but only by a few years, if even that. But he was far leaner and slighter in build, quite a bit fairer and seemingly completely hairless save for the dark, loosely tied back length of his shining hair, and he was wearing very tight pants along with something that was too see-through, soft and loose to be considered a proper shirt.

Will watched with a clenched jaw as the assistant walked the young man over to Captain Lecter and Franklyn, and then Will ground his teeth together and narrowed his eyes, when he saw Lecter nod at Franklyn before the Captain was led away, back out of the main room, by the young man who was smiling subtly and coyly at him.

"Randall." Jimmy's voice near his ear and the strong smell of rum on his breath caught Will unawares.

He tore his narrowed gaze away from the doorway through which Lecter had gone with the prostitute and frowned at a very drunk looking Jimmy,

"Who?" he breathed out.

"Boy-brasser that tha' Cap'n left with." Jimmy gestured to the shadowy stairs with his beer mug, the man already quite intoxicated even though they'd only been on shore for an hour or so, "Most as'pensive boy Froideveaux has, an' when he hears we're comin' ashore, he always keeps Randall an' Clarice on reserve for tha' Cap'n any night he wants either of em', even though he hardly eva' comes here," he gulped from his beer and squinted his eyes as he swallowed, looking from what was left in his mug back to Will, "an' when he does, 's only ever on tha' first night we make port." Jimmy slurred, looking unimpressed, "The Cap'n only ever takes one or tha' other ta' bed." Jimmy said dryly and sighed very heavily as his gaze wandered around.

Will knew Jimmy had been a part of Lecter's crew for many years, and that he rather openly favored men sexually, so he easily guessed from the man's bitter tone, that Jimmy probably wanted, but couldn't afford Randall, and judging by his wistfulness, he'd been wanting Randall for some time.

That didn't concern Will though, it wasn't his business, and all he wondered about was how special the guy and mentioned girl had to be, to be so expensive and to be the only two whores in the whole place that Lecter bothered with.

"I need to get drunk." he mumbled, looking down at the filthy table as he cuffed a hand through his sea-wind sticky hair.

"And fucked." Beverly popped up on his other side, reaching across Will to knock her beer mug against Jimmy's, making the man spill down his shirt.

" **I** need to get fucked." Jimmy didn't seem to care about the beer soaking the front of his off coloured shirt, rather looking around at what was available to him.

"Me too." Beverly smirked as she leaned on the table and also looked around, winking at someone she saw in the crowd.

Will said nothing as he leaned back in the wooden chair and swiped a hand over his face, having no plans to lose his virginity to an expensive prostitute any more than he would a common bunter.

In fact, seeing the Captain leaving with the lithe, dark haired young man had only strengthened his resolve.

Until Will knew for a fact that Lecter had no interest in sleeping with his crew or fleet members…Will would find a way to get the man's attention.

* * *

At nine months into being a pirate, Will _finally_ made his first headway at catching Lecter's attention.

Despite walking around the ship and carrying out his duties shirtless and in his tight leather pants when they sailed in particularly hot weather, and making a point of trying to catch Lecter's eyes whenever the man was in his vicinity or line of sight, the Captain seemed entirely unfazed.

It wasn't until the day they set upon six other pirate ships with their fleet of five, and a very bloody battle ensued, that Lecter actually, finally _noticed_ him. And it was only when during a struggle and sword fight upon the enemy vessel, when Will had been trapped against one of the sail columns with a larger man pressing sword to sword with him, bearing down his greater weight in order to make Will's arms buckle to the point where he'd be run through with the other man's weapon, when Will had unthinkingly and entirely on instinct reared up with his teeth bared and had taken a chunk of flesh out of the man's face, that Lecter, who'd seen the attack after cutting down his own opponents on the deck above, had stilled and became entirely absorbed in watching Will amidst the ongoing fighting.

Will hadn't noticed immediately, adrenalin pumping and focus attuned to the threat as he spat the bloody flesh out, watching intently as the enemy pirate shouted in pain and took a step back, holding his bleeding face with one hand while staggering backwards uncertainly for a moment. Will had moved then, raising his sword and slicing the man across his stomach, disemboweling him easily…and that's when, breathing heavily with enemy blood dripping off his chin and coating the lines of his teeth in red, leaving the sharp taste of iron on his tongue, that he'd turned to look around for another opponent and had seen Lecter staring at him from the upper deck.

And with black eyes and a subtle flaring of his nostrils, Lecter had nodded at him slowly in obvious approval.

Approval that Will had felt turn to desire as it sunk in, warmly settling in his loins and making pride flare in his chest at the acknowledgement from the Captain.

It had been an _excellent_ day, more than one battle and struggle having been won and overcome, and following that, Lecter had automatically taken more of an interest in him, personally setting him tasks more frequently, occasionally asking his opinion when he'd be present during 'business' discussions with Alana, Bedelia or Margot.

And then, sometimes, the Captain would just **look** at him…and Will would look back.

The older man always cut an intimidating and striking figure, always dressed in blood red and black colours, materials of leather, silk and occasionally fine cotton, almost never without his skull, bone and feather adorned hat on his head, with the fall of his brown and silver hair over his forehead, into his eyes just so, making the attractive, tanned, sculpted and handsome features of his face stand out even more against the blue skies and bluer water, and the dark setting of the ship.

The man was gorgeous, dangerous, intelligent and powerful…and Will found himself wanting to fall, if not already having fallen, in love with Hannibal Lecter.

* * *

Which was why, at eleven months as part of the crew, when they made port at Poland-Lithuania again, Will found himself _furious_ when the Captain, once again, visited the brothel and left to go upstairs to the bedrooms with Randall.

* * *

Presently, a further three months later, Will sniffed into the ale in his mug as he sat at a pirate frequented dive in an unsavory part of Trinidad, off the Spanish Main coast. It was not the worst place, but it was far from anything like the places in Poland-Lithuania. Then again, none of the places he'd been to outside of his new home country in the Baltic Seas had been better.

Generally, pirates really did hang around in awful places.

"I've been spoiled." he muttered to himself, thinking of what his life as a pirate had been like on The Ripper thus far; nothing like being around the raging, filthy lot that surrounded him now.

Beverly had heard him mutter, seeing as how she was sitting close up against his side at the crowded table they'd appropriated upon entering the filthy tavern.

"Whachu' say?" she slurred, quite drunk right then, drinking rum like most everyone did, something Will avoided for how absolutely vile it tasted and for how it wreaked havoc on his sensibilities.

"Nothing." Will said audibly, placing his mug down with a sigh that was lost in the noise of the tavern.

A group of men had started fighting across the bar, because of course they had, wenches were screeching, people were laughing, a table got tossed…and Will decided abruptly that he was fed up with the chaos.

"I'm going back to the ship." he said, leaning near enough to Beverly that she'd hear him.

She glanced at him, licking rum from her lips, her eyes squinted more than usual in her drunkenness,

"Žinoma." (of course) she nodded and raised her mug to him, knocking it against his empty cup on the table so it fell over.

There was a chorus of curses, less laughter and more shouting in the tavern, all of it getting nearer to where they were seated and Will wanted to be out of there before he got caught in the fray, so he slipped out of the bench and began shoving his way through the thick, drunken crowd toward the exit.

It took a minute, but once Will was out in the cool evening air of the bustling streets, he inhaled deeply –even though it didn't smell too good- and enjoyed the feeling of his damp neck cooling down in the slight breeze.

He then placed a hand on the hilt of one of his swords, a cautionary action, as he began walking along the street toward the docks. He'd been feeling irritable and frustrated since they'd left Poland-Lithuania to sail across the sea again, ever since the second time he'd witnessed Captain Lecter taking Randall to have him for the night…

He just didn't understand why the hell Lecter would give him lingering, pleased looks and then completely ignore the fact that Will **always** returned them. He'd been _so_ obvious recently, expecting the Captain to take the _right_ kind of notice of him, of the way he gave the older man flirtatious and interested smiles, of the way he wore the front of his shirt laced even less, so that most of his chest was exposed, of how he gave the older man plainly heated looks whenever he managed to make eye contact, whether it was during sailing or during looting.

Will was no Casanova, having never flirted with another person before in his life, he knew he was lacking in that area, but he was being so obvious about his interest that it seemed as if Lecter was just deliberately and out rightly ignoring him, which was insulting and embarrassing and was really pissing him off.

He snorted to himself and clenched his free hand into a fist, turning down another dirty, narrow street as he made his way to the docks. He looked up ahead as he took a deep calming breath, seeing the massive stretch of ocean water, dark and ominous under the nighttime cloudy sky, more clearly as the clutter of buildings began to lessen. The docks were close now, and getting nearer to the ship where Lecter would be, Will thought of what Beverly had said about the Captain not sleeping with crew members.

If that was the case, then it made sense that Will was being actively ignored and not just casually dismissed for a lack of interest. And that meant that even if Lecter did want him, the Captain was not about to make it known or succumb to it.

Brow tense with frustration, Will was distracted by his thoughts, and he glanced to the side in mild surprise when a drunk fat man nearly stumbled into him as he staggered out from the doors of another tavern. He quickly stepped back, out of the way, so the man stumbled past him and fell on to the ground, face first and groaning.

Will continued walking then, stepping around the pile of a man, uninterested even as he was aware that behind him a few other men came stumbling out of the pub, the group falling upon the drunk, dealing him a beating for some reason or another.

"Damn pirates." Will shook his head, striding on without glancing back, not thinking it the least bit ridiculous to be admonishing his own kind, even if they were only the same kind by chosen status and not in nature.

* * *

It wasn't long before he reached the docks, and then soon he was walking along the gangplank leading up onto the The Ripper's main deck, the large blood red sails above, lowered and tied off for the night, looking almost black in the moonlight.

The Shrike and the The Muskrat were also docked, while the other two ships –The Dragon and Mongoose- were out in the water, anchored and barely visible in the distance. Will reached the top of the gangplank and stepped onto the deck, his boots clipping loudly on the dark wood as he walked toward the forecastle deck doors, which led down to the crew cabins. The docks were empty and quiet at that hour, with only a few pirates on guard and a few drunk stragglers making their way to the ships, some with company, paid for and not, and some alone.

The pirate town itself was alight and noisy though, because pirate towns almost never slept, and Will stopped walking halfway across the deck to look out at the rooftops and orange lights of the town, shaking his head with some fondness, but still feeling eager to get back out onto the peaceful open water come the following –likely late- morning.

They'd sailed south from Scandinavia because the Baltic Pirates had some ongoing business with the scarce coastal tribes in Guiana, and once that business had been concluded, they'd made port in Trinidad and had stocked up for the journey ahead. They'd be sailing north again, -past Port Royal, Tortuga and New Providence - with the intent, as Lecter had explained with a very pleased smile, to lay siege to some English passenger and cargo ships off the coast of Virginia, Maryland and New Jersey. And, of course, they were more than likely to run into some enemy pirates too.

Will was personally looking forward to the fun and excitement of a good and proper fight after weeks of nothing but calm sailing; the pirate life was honestly quite addictive. But he was also anticipating returning to the cooler weather up north, having been sailing the southern west seas for a few months now, he was drained from the consistently hot weather.

He sighed heavily as he cast his gaze up at the night sky, taking in the few lonely stars visible between the slow moving gray clouds, before he lowered his gaze again and glanced around the ship's deck.

And he was startled when he noticed Captain Lecter approaching him, the older man walking slowly, near completely silent too, even with his heavy leather boots against the wood, as he moved across the deck.

"Good evening, Will." the Captain, who was always as well-mannered as he was dangerous, greeted him in that sinfully rich and accented tone once he was within easy earshot, a subtle slanted smile on his lips as he tilted his head forward in a gentlemanly way, the top half of his face nearly completely shadowed beneath the broad rim of his hat.

"Captain." Will returned the greeting quietly, unable to help the rasp in his tone as a side effect of his amorous feelings, feelings that he made no attempt to curb or hide anymore. And for that reason, he rather blatantly tracked his gaze over the length of the older man's body, clad in the usual black and red silks and leather, feeling his blood pump faster in his veins as his heart rate increased, Will allowing all of the telltale signs of his keen interest in the dangerous man standing two feet away, to be easily apparent…

…and, unsurprisingly, garnering no reaction from the cannibal Pirate Lord.

"We'll be at sea for several weeks again from tomorrow morning," Lecter said, unfazed by Will's leering as his gaze settled on the younger man, who knew he was being assessed by maroon eyes even though he couldn't clearly see Lecter's face, "should you not be enjoying your last night on land for a while?" he asked with such infuriating pleasantness that Will's temper abruptly flared up,

"Doing what?" he asked shortly, feeling unapologetic about his tone, even though he knew Lecter abhorred rudeness.

As if perfectly timed to make a point of Lecter's inference, another crew member stumbled on board with a giggling woman, who was scantily clad and very obviously a prostitute, held close under his arm. The man paused to drunkenly greet the Captain before he continued on, stumbling to the forecastle doors while tugging the woman along with him.

After a brief glare of disdain at his bastard crew mate for his convenient timing, Will looked back to the Captain, only to have to suppress an eye roll of aggravation when he saw the older man smirking at him. Lecter, the too handsome, too confident jerk that he was, tipped his head in the direction of the drunk pirate, wordlessly –and predictably- implying that that was what Will should have been doing right then.

And Will didn't act clueless or play nice about it, he made a face and a sound that clearly expressed what he thought of _that_ idea, hoping to offend Lecter since the man himself paid for his bed company, even if it was expensive and 'high end' company. But Lecter just grinned at him, all sharp teeth and a glint of blood in his eyes as he leaned his head back to look up at the dark sky, his face becoming properly visible then; his defined jaw line attractively pronounced at that angle, the stretch of his throat bared, his shoulders broad and strong…

…he truly cut an imposing, impressive and intimidating figure against the backdrop of his ship and beneath the faint moonlight.

Will swallowed thickly and felt rather thirsty.

When a breeze passed over them, the Captain inhaled, as he often did, quiet and deeply, and Will wondered what he smelled in the air, wondered what scents were being carried on the Blood Current, but would never know unless he asked, which he never did. No one ever did.

"Are whores too good for you?" he asked evenly and unexpectedly, and the fact that the ever-polite Captain Lecter said the word 'whores', immediately made Will feel chastised for being so judgmental and discourteous, "As a boy of former nobility," Lecter added, driving the subtle rebuke home, "so used to fair maidens in layered frocks and fine masters in long clothes, with flushed bosoms and smooth cheeks, all of them pretending to be so very naïve and innocent…" Lecter stated dully, reminding Will of how he'd once been, before the older man lowered his head again to look at him, "…do you think them better because they require more clothes to be removed and socially acceptable courting to take place before they allow a lover to have them?" he finished in a bored tone, the question sounding as much rhetorical as not.

Will narrowed his eyes, feeling the sting of the older man's words acutely, but not letting it show in his face or demeanor. Instead, he sniffed in annoyance, and hating it when his former life was brought up, he spoke in a tense tone when he responded,

"It has nothing to do with them being whores, maidens or masters," which was mostly true, "it's about knowing what **I** want." Will stated honestly, and then turned to face the Captain properly, cocking an eyebrow as he looked pointedly over the length of the older man before he went on, smirking now, "And don't think me a boy just because you're an old man." he jested riskily, not entirely certain the Captain would take it as a joke or insolence.

But even calling the Captain old held little weight, because while Will had no idea how old he actually was –as a supposed demon-, as a human, he didn't look to be any more than ten or so years older than Will, which would put him in his early thirties.

"A bold tongue," Lecter commented humorlessly, not angered but also not amused, "but yet a boy all the same." Will pursed his lips in frustration, about to say something, but then he noticed the sudden stillness that came over the Pirate Lord, the man looking intensely and unblinkingly at him, and Will held his tongue. Lecter's face was once again cast in shadow by his hat and his voice was quiet, his tone darkly pensive, when he next spoke, "One who knows not the consequences…of that which he endeavors to have." the Captain said ominously.

But Will, too fed up with beating around the bush as they had been for months and months, spoke frankly and with ample sarcasm and exasperation colouring his tone,

"Consequences?" he practically scoffed, looking directly at the Captain, letting the passion and heat he felt for the older man mingle with his irritation as he took a step closer, "What might they be, I wonder, Captain…" he tilted his head, "…some sort of violence, is it?" he raised a mocking eyebrow and with only a breath of hesitation, he decided to push his luck, "Are you tempted to eat what you fuck after you're done with it?"

Will really should have checked his tone though, and definitely his words, because the lightning fast movement with which he found himself lifted off the ground by his throat, held aloft and unable to take in any air, was justified, and not hardly surprising considering who he'd just pissed off.

But Will didn't struggle, because he knew the man's wrath well enough to know that struggling or fighting would not do him any good…

…and he was right, because after a heart racing, suffocating, mortality redefining minute -just when black started to bleed into his peripheral and his awareness began to wane, his hands that had been latched onto the Captain's strong forearm losing their grip- he felt the leather gloved hand wrapped tightly around his throat slacken, and just when his boots touched the wood of the deck again, he was released completely.

Will fell backwards, dizzy and unbalanced, and very ungracefully he landed on his arse, immediately wracked with fitful coughing as he turned onto his side and leaned on his elbow, lightly holding his bruised neck with his other hand as he swallowed air in desperately and too quickly.

Once he'd finally begun to breathe enough to ease the burning in his lungs, his senses returned to him and Will quickly turned onto his back, leaning on his elbows as he looked up to where Lecter had been standing, but the man was gone.

"Dammit." Will rasped out, huffing air out harshly through his nose as he clenched his eyes shut and let himself fall onto his back, bringing his hands up to cover his face as he clenched his jaw tightly and mentally cursed himself. Even though he couldn't guess at just how much of a mistake he'd just made, he immediately knew he'd messed up quite badly…and yet it didn't scare him like it probably should have.

No, rather, the humiliation of rejection, the insult to his maturity and his dignity, the embarrassment of his desires, and the realization of his fragile mortality…it _infuriated_ him.

* * *

And that fury would light a fire of latent violence in Will Graham that burned hot and black, that would go on to reap infamy of his mien among pirates and great amounts of fear of him in men across the northern seas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Just to check; would readers prefer shorter chapters with quicker updates, or longer chapters with longer waiting periods between?
> 
> Next chapter - Dark!Will and a blast from his past.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Apologies for the delay in uploading this, but please remember that even if I take a while, I will always eventually update!  
> \- Not beta-read, sorry for mistakes!  
> \- I hope everyone enjoys :)  
> \- Also thanks to [Marlahanni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlahanni/pseuds/marlahanni)  
> for [these](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12049308/chapters/27283857)  
> awesome edits made for Pirates of the Baltic! Much, much love! ♥♥

* * *

The next few weeks were a dark time for Will, as he went into every purge and pillage with a bloodlust the likes of which he'd never known himself capable of, and while it started out being because of Hannibal's rejection of him, it turned into so much more, because the more blood Will spilled, the more he craved the iron rich scent of it coating his senses.

He took no prisoners and didn't hesitate to cut throats, to disembowel, gut and bite, sever, slaughter and impale.

And never once, at any time, was Will looked at askance or warily or in fear and disgust by his fellow crewmates, as would have happened in 'polite society'. No, in fact it was just the opposite, Will gained **respect,** along with confidence and above all, he was beginning to gain a _reputation_.

And it all felt _so_ good.

As it was won't to do though, the excessive violence brought about changes in Will; he would look at his reflection whenever he came across a mirror on the company ships they looted, or in clear enough water when they made port, occasionally in the reflective surfaces of treasure or the precious and shining amber stones indigenous to the Baltic sea -that laid about the ship as if they were worthless-, and he would see the sallow colour of his skin, the way his dark, thick curly hair and sea-blue eyes stood out in contrast.

He'd note the hard line of his jaw, the firm set of his mouth, the perpetual expression of threat distinguished in his brow and the high arch of his noise…most of all, he'd note his scars, somehow more pronounced against his sallow skin; darker, grayer.

But Will didn't mind, he reveled in the fear other pirates felt at the sight of him, how they recognized him by his expensive but very pirate-esque clothes, the way they gave him a wide berth to pass when he walked, the way they didn't seek eye contact, afraid of retribution and his wrath.

Yes, Will _loved_ it. He was becoming the very thing he'd always wondered after, dreamed of, envied…he was becoming an infamous pirate, most notably known for the violent way he would run enemies through with sometimes not just one, but two arming or falchion swords, would twist before tossing or shoving his opponent away, impaled and bloody…

… and with his infamy and killing technique, came whispers of the name the The Stag, in reference to him, and it had started to get around.

So even though Will had not completely forgotten about his interest in Hannibal Lecter, he became so distracted, so caught up in the whirlwind of his quickly growing notoriety, that it became a background noise. Now, when given orders by The Ripper Captain, Will didn't linger to stare or make eye contact with the man, he went to it and excelled at it, so well in fact that Lecter began to include in him in far more decisions and discussions.

Will became important to the crew, and things between him and Hannibal settled into professionalism.

Well, as much as one can be professional when you're a pirate.

The Captain was exactly as Beverly described him though, he didn't spend overmuch time with the extended crew, and with his closer and most important crew members, he was congenial but only as far as was necessary. He spent most of his time alone and no one ever went into his cabin unless it was for business, never staying for very long either.

And in the following year that passed, Will actually celebrated his second birthday since being a pirate, but unlike his unspoken of 19th birthday, he turned 20 in a big way, with a lot of rum, mischief and surrounded by pirate brethren in Tripoli. It was significant in many ways, because Will had truly settled into his new life, he truly _became_.

It still baffled him to think of it, when he occasionally did, that he had done exactly as Lecter had said he would under his sails; Will had become a predator where he'd once been prey. And that had happened without Lecter's help, he had achieved it all on his own.

It made him proud, it made him stronger…it made him grin like a devil.

* * *

As he presently was, sparring with Beverly on the beautiful beach of a small, secluded part of the Azores islands. Jimmy was standing by, meant to be ready for his own turn of sparring but ultimately too drunk that late in the afternoon to be able to follow through.

It wasn't as if Will had expected him to anyway.

In truth, Beverly was the main person who always sparred with him, and while she couldn't always best him, on occasion she actually managed to, and Will was thrilled by the challenge she always presented.

Will swung his falchion-waster in a pseudo slash at Beverly's abdomen, and blunt and wooden though it was, it made a dull swishing sound through the air for how hard he swung it, as was their usual way when they sparred. And Beverly, nimble and skilled, evaded the attack and swung her own arming sword waster at him, the very same swishing sound cutting through the air downwards at his shoulder, a move that would have imbedded a blade into his trapezius if he weren't so quick, evading just as she had.

He followed through quicker though, raising a leg and faux-kicking her, his bare and sandy foot connecting with enough force to shove her off balance and possibly bruise, but not seriously hurt.

Beverly didn't even bother to try and maintain balance, allowing herself to tip over and fall into the sand with a laugh. She dropped her waster and threw her arms up as she lay flat on her back in the sand,

"Okay, you win." she conceded.

Will, already ready to continue sparring, frowned at her and huffed, throwing his unarmed hand in the air,

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow at Beverly, "Already? I think you're going soft." he stated as he spun his waster in a quick arch by the handle and then stuck it in the sand before walking over to her and kicking some sand on her legs.

Beverly, completely unfazed, sat up and shrugged as she looked up at him,

"I drunk a half a bottle of rum, you incorrigible brat." she said with a grin on her face and sand grains clinging to her braided, loose and bound black hair.

"Excuses, excuses." Will half rolled his eyes, not smiling, never really smiling, but showing his teeth in what passed as such recently, and he pointedly ignored the word 'brat' from her mouth, since she was in fact only six years older than him.

"I have plenty more excuses over here!" Jimmy announced from his comfortable place atop a mound of soft, white-beige sand, and when they looked over, he was holding up both of his two hands, grasping the necks of fat, full rum bottles.

That time Will did roll his eyes, never quite as much of a drinker as the rest of them, he often opted out of overindulgence.

True to said form, Beverly was eager to continue to indulge, and she rolled, stumbled, half crawled and evenly fell into a lazy sprawl beside Jimmy, grabbing one of the proffered rum bottles in her faded cloth wrapped hand, before bringing the corked neck to her mouth and using her teeth to pop it out.

She drank a steady few gulps, Jimmy grinning drunkenly and Will watching with a deadpan expression on his face, until she was done and she grinned, wiping stray drops of rum from her lips.

"Would you like a share in this very good excuse, Will?" she offered, but she knew he'd decline, and that he did with a short but amiable shake of his head.

"I'll pass, I'd rather not be sick come morning." he warned them, even as he knew they didn't care, and he turned to look out at the sea, where in the distance and at a distance from one another, five dark and intimidating pirate ships were anchored well past the shallows, and beyond that was the stunning horizon of a lovely sunset.

A small and very real smile ghosted across Will's face at the sight.

So impossibly near and yet unattainable in the end.

That thought gave way to a fleeting image of Captain Lecter, and Will banished it immediately, knowing such thoughts of desire and want were for naught.

Honestly, every month and day and hour that he remained sexually chaste, Will wondered why he didn't just give it up to someone…because even with his newly feared reputation, he still had an abundance of offers from men and women whenever they made port.

And thinking of making port made him think of home -the Baltics-, and the brothel…and Randall, the image of Lecter taking that lithe young man to bed bringing anger to the surface of his temper very quickly, for even though he'd never had sex himself, in the time he'd been a pirate the things he'd witnessed pirates doing left very little to his imagination, and he could visualize it displeasingly easily.

That time, Will clenched his teeth as he shut his eyes and pushed those thoughts from his mind, inhaling and exhaling tensely through his nose, the huff of it lost to the early evening wind that ruffled his curls and the fabric of his untucked shirttails and calf length breeches.

It was useless to worry over something he had no control over, especially when they hadn't been back to Polish-Lithuania in almost a year…but they would eventually. Perhaps in the coming month…perhaps the month after, perhaps not for another year…

 _'…_ _perhaps next time I'll sample Froideveaux's wares myself_ …' he thought half-heartedly, knowing without having to think on it too much, that he wouldn't be doing that.

Laughter from down the beach brought him out of his musings and Will turned his head with the wind, looking in the near distance at the gathering of pirates from all five of the ships where they were drinking and laughing, enjoying their time on the warm, peaceful island…by being the disruptive carousers that they were.

"This is a rest stop, Will…" Beverly said loudly, and Will didn't need to look at her to know she was grinning like an idiot, leaning back in the sand, relaxed as though she had not a care in the world, "…so you should be resting."

"You relly' shhhould," Jimmy piped up, slurring far worse after the last few gulps of rum he'd drank, and Will spared them both a lingering side-look then, "next few weeks'r gonna' be all work…no play." he informed.

And Will knew it too.

They'd be sailing to the North, out past the Faroe Islands, a trip that as far as Will knew, the Baltic pirates made only occasionally, once every two years or so, to trade rare and locally unattainable goods with the unnamed but occupied islands some distance from the coastline of Norway.

Will was expecting it to be awful, he'd never been that far north and the only stories he'd heard were horrifying tales of going to sleep and not waking up again, having turned into a hunk of ice through the night, or of limbs becoming frostbitten and falling, even breaking, off. The tales went on as such and while Will was happy to face a hoard of violent enemy pirates or company soldiers, braving the deadlier, natural elements struck justified fear into him, as they very well should.

Beverly had been one of the many crewmates relaying these tales to him, having sailed that way three times herself since joining the Baltic Pirates when she was 19, and obviously having survived. Will wasn't sure whether she was telling him mostly just to scare him, exaggerating as pirates were won't to do, or because it was true and she was bragging that she'd survived it so many times.

But he wasn't about to back down from it anyhow, he was going to go to all the places Baltic Pirates dared go.

In fact, he would go anywhere and everywhere Lecter steered his ships.

There'd be no stopping him; short of death at least.

* * *

 

* * *

They stocked up on everything in excess over the next few weeks, stopping over in Portugal to trade coin for goods with the black market merchants. It was somewhat out of the way and off their route to the north, but it was necessary to sustain the crew of the five Baltic ships as they sailed to the extreme north over the months to come.

The problem with sailing from Azores to Portugal for trade, was that when they set out again after their trades were sorted and the crews rested and ready to go north westerly, was that they could not avoid sailing through the Company occupied and frequented waters of England and it's colonized counterpart, Ireland.

And that in itself was not a problem, since they took Company ships down whenever the opportunity presented itself, treating the occurrences like receiving gifts from the many gods and deities that they didn't even really believe in. So Will was not concerned about it.

No, the problem came about when on that particular trip their journey was in fact intercepted by a small fleet of seven Company ships, but the circumstances were different, and Will's new life as a pirate was threatened to be unraveled…

* * *

The fleet was only seven in number, small for the Company and only two more ships than the Baltic fleet had; ultimately though, far less than they'd require if they'd had any hopes of taking the Baltic pirates down.

And yet, instead of hauling arse -being as Company ships were generally clippers, and could outrun the average pirate ship **and** should have at least tried despite the futility of it in the face of Baltic ships -, they didn't. Rather, there were orders yelled to ready the cannons.

It was a mistake, one the Company crews would pay dearly for.

As it were, in under a half hour, the Mongoose and Shrike had overwhelmed, boarded and commandeered five of the ships. The sixth had been sunk by The Baltic Dragon as it'd been the one to initially turn cannons on them; Captain Dolarhyde and crew, who were presently taking no prisoners, went on to take shots at the already drowning men as they drifted in the chaotic waters around their devastated vessel.

The Muskrat had been the one to take the seventh ship, which had been the flagship, and presently The Ripper and Muskrat were flanking parallel to the Company flagship on either side, trapping the seized ship in between them. Gangplanks and ropes were being used for the excess of the Ripper crew to join the Muskrat crew on deck of the Company ship.

The rest of the crewmembers were lowering the sails on all three vessels, steadying the ships for the time it'd take to plunder them, take what was needed, goods and people, and then be on their way again.

There were still Company soldiers hiding and fighting on the flagship though, since it had been the most armed ship in the fleet.

Will had just jumped off the gangplank and landed on the deck of the Company ship when a shot went off and he watched dispassionately as one of his pirate brethren yelled and dropped, followed by several more pirates who had been previously otherwise distracted. He turned to look for the source of the pistol fire with the rest of the still living pirates on deck, who then abruptly charged after the soldier, the man wisely fleeing to the higher deck as he withdrew his arming sword.

Tobias landed beside Will just then, and with a snarl he went after the soldier who was now sword fighting three pirates at once. The soldier was no amateur, that much was obvious, but the pirates would take him, Will was certain of that, and he lost interest in watching almost immediately.

He looked over the deck of the ship, the wind being quite strong that day, catching at the brim of his hat, his curls and his clothes, and Will took in a breath, enjoying the fresh sea air for a moment, just before he spotted a stray soldier coming down from the forecastle deck in a panicked hurry and he grinned, unsheathing his sword with one smooth motion and locking eyes with the man just before he moved toward him.

The soldier looked terribly afraid, but was brave –or maybe stupid- and after back stepping a few times he stopped and stood his ground amidst the chaos, taking out his sword and preparing himself for battle.

But what he didn't know, was there would be no contest.

When Will was near enough, the soldier shouted out a cry of attack and raised his sword to bring it down again with fatal force and intent. But it only took a second quicker for Will to swing his sword up in defense, the steel of their two swords clanging loudly as the man's attack was deflected and Will had unsheathed his second sword. From there, it took only one steady thrust to drive his blade through the soldier's torso with enough force that it exited through his back, smearing and staining the blade with thick, glistening blood.

Will met the soldier's wide, disbelieving eyes with a cruel, dead-eyed stare, the other man's gaping mouth filling with blood as he gasped and groaned in shock and pain, his sword falling from his hand before both came to grasp at Will's hand gripped around the hilt of his own sword.

But before the soldier could cling to him, Will did as he'd become known to do, twisting his sword roughly – eliciting a spit up of blood and a pained cry from the soldier – before raising his leg and kicking the soldier backwards off his blade with the heel of his boot, drawing his weapon back at the same time. A spray of blood followed the extraction of his blade, but Will had already turned his attention away by the time the soldier dropped to his knees, looking to the doors beneath the stern-castle deck which led into the Company Captain's quarters, doors through which Will had just seen Lecter go.

He glanced around at the bloody and violent scene on deck as he whipped his blade through the air to clear some of the clinging blood from it, proceeding to sheath his other sword as he noted that the pirates had now totally taken over. He surmised he was not needed there before he turned and headed toward the doors, striding across the deck, stepping over scattered wood, weapons and dead bodies as he went.

"Their cargo hold is stocked to bursting!" a familiar voice yelled and Will stopped walking, tipping his head back to look up at Captain Verger where the man stood leaning on the banister of the stern castle deck, just above the doors. He was a perpetually rather psychotic looking character, with his small, straight and faintly smoke-yellowed and gold lined teeth bared in a loony grin directed down at Will.

As he usually did, he wore layers and layers of material and clothing, animal skins and claw bones, stitched in here and there, whether it was hot or cold he never dressed in less than four layers. Mason was always bulky in expensive pelts and cloth, and his never-groomed hair was a darkish frightening shock splayed high above his head, matted stiff from dirt and likely sticky from the salty clinging moisture of the sea air.

"My crew said only one man could fit between the _walls_ of their cargo." he added, tapping his fingers on the banister almost idly, a sound that was lost in the noise on the deck and to the wind in the air.

"Grand, Captain Verger, to be sure…" Will humoured their resident nutcase and then tipped his head further back so that Mason would see his cocked eyebrow beneath the brim of his hat, "…but pray tell, why are you telling me this?" he asked rather bluntly, because despite Mason's standing as a Captain on his own ship, the crewmen aboard each individual Baltic vessel answered only to their respective ship Captain when it came to small matters. So Will answered solely to Lecter, always.

Mason only looked more amused at his unfriendly tone, half laughing and snorting for a moment before seemingly consciously calming himself down and tilting his head to the side, his bright blue eyes rolling up and then down in his round sockets before he huffed as if Will was the dense and confusing one out of the two of them,

"Obviously…because you're going in there after Hannibal."

Will rolled his eyes as he lowered his head again,

"…ah yes, I'll tell Captain Lecter of the loot." he said quickly and began to walk forward again, Mason's taxing presence completely forgotten without a second thought.

He entered the main quarters, stepping into the open living space of the great cabin, and just as he remembered from the last time he'd been aboard a Company ship, it was a very large set of rooms, bigger than the rooms on the Baltic ships. But then, Baltic ships were made to sail at high speeds, faster than any other ship –even the legendary Caribbean Black Pearl-, cutting through the water like smooth, sharp blades, whereas Company ships were about size, appearance and status and relied heavily on their massive and high quality sails, and a narrow but sturdy keel to sail as fast as they did.

Looking around at the lavish interior of the great cabins common area, Will reached up and removed his hat, his dark curls falling over each other once freed and settling in a thick disarray, one curl falling almost into his eye for the length his hair had gained. He never allowed it to get long enough to be tied, as he wasn't fond of the maintenance, or the problems that arose with the lack thereof, but it wasn't as short or neatly kept as it had been when he'd lived as nobility, as he certainly rarely bothered to tame it to that extent.

"Captain Lecter?" Will called, having not spoken to the man in about three days, not since their last meeting before leaving Portugal, he figured he might as well find out from the older man what their orders were to proceed; should they leave the ships abandoned to be reclaimed by England, or set fire to them as they often did?

There was no sight of the Captain and no answer either, so Will walked further in, entering the officers' room. His eyes fell on the tactical map spread out on a large table, where the pieces were only partially set to navigation and headings, along with two wooden arms used for moving the pieces across the large map, which lay untidily as if they'd just been dropped there.

Will didn't pay the map any mind as it held no significance to their plans, instead he walked over to another table, a desk actually, and set his hat down before picking up a clean weapon polishing cloth lying unused there. He folded it twice quickly before placing it around the base of his blade and swiping upward, cleaning away as much of the congealing blood as possible. He wrinkled his nose at the mess left behind and tossed the cloth back onto the desk.

He took a step away then, glancing around and deciding to head toward the back rooms of the main quarters, but he was interrupted by the sound of his name breathed out in stunned, disbelieving shock,

" _William?_ " and spoken far too close for comfort as well.

Will spun around, sword raised with quick skill to the exact height of an average man's throat, effectively completely halting the person who'd been coming toward him. A gasp slipped from the man's lips as his hands went up suddenly in the air, fingers splayed wide in a placating gesture of meaning no harm,

"It's me…it's only me, William." he said in a nervous half whisper, and when he swallowed thickly the sharp blade tip of Will's sword scraped against his pale skin.

Will narrowed his eyes at the familiar man, knowing immediately who he was but not lowering his sword even so.

"Matthew." Will said flatly. Captain Matthew Brown of the English Company Navy. His c _ousin_ Matthew Brown, on his mother's side, one of the relatives Will had been on relatively good standing with many years ago.

"Gods, it really **is** you!" Matthew smiled now, still edged with nerves but seemingly genuinely happy enough to see him. And certainly confident enough about what he thought he knew of Will to be unaware of the danger posed to his mortality, as he almost absently nudged the sword away from his throat, just enough so that he could reach out and pull Will into a hug of all things, the slightly shorter and smaller man's arms wrapping around Will's shoulders and holding him tight.

Will, for his part, saw no threat in Matthew, hence the reason he allowed his weapon to be pushed away and himself to be tugged into a hug. And despite having been deprived of anything resembling affection in longer than he'd even been a pirate, Will was unable to relax into the embrace, standing stiff and still, hands and sword tense at his sides while being hugged by his Company uniformed cousin, the white hard and gold embellishments of his dark navy blue jacket cold against Will's chin.

"We believed you dead…" Matthew breathed out as he drew back abruptly from the hug, grasping Will by the black fabric of his shirt over his broad, firmly set shoulders, "…you've a grave, a headstone…the works." he was shaking his head, eyes round and a relieved smile stretching his wide, sly mouth broadly. Matthew had always been mischievous and he'd a face to match that trait.

He was staring expectantly at Will, who was unable to manage a response other than a shrug as he said,

"Well…"

It was enough for Matthew, because he huffed out a pleased laugh and thumped Will's shoulders once roughly before grasping and squeezing his upper arms good naturedly.

"A wonderful discovery during such a dreadful event!" he said, a frown touching his features as he glanced back at the doors, through which his fellow crew members were being slaughtered and taken hostage. When Matthew looked back to him, he did so with an assessing gaze and Will returned the look, wondering how it was that Matthew hadn't been killed or captured yet.

The Company Captain had blood on his uniform and his face, a pistol missing from his weapon's belt but his sword still sheathed there. And just as Will registered that Matthew had the blood of his pirate brethren on him, recalling how Matthew had always been an excellent shot and a remorseless fighter, Matthew had noticed that Will was not the 'William' he so affectionately remembered.

"What are you wear-…?" he was frowning, taking in Will's much more weighted and decorated black leather weapons chest strap and waist belt, the state of his clothes, which though not the cheapest or scruffiest, were nowhere near the expensive quality long clothes of a nobleman. Matthew took a small step back and raised his eyebrows, his lips curling in confused amusement, "Are those pirate clothes? Are you a pirate?" he scoffed.

The scoff offended Will, as he recalled clearly how his naval accomplished cousins had always made fun of him for his 'baby face'. And yet now he stood, quite aware of how severe he looked, and even more aware of the fact that Matthew looked like the 'baby face' out of the two of them. And even though he was broader than Will, he was smaller in height and size despite being a few years older. Yes, he looked every bit as young as a child and just as blind to the world.

Will, however, was no longer the naïve, daydreaming boy he'd once been.

"Surprised?" he asked quietly, his not-quite smile twitching across his lips meanly.

Matthew, still oblivious to the implications behind Will being a _Baltic pirate_ , simply scoffed again and shook his head, his tied back long hair loose enough for a few strands to slip free,

"Confounded, actually. You look affright, cousin…" he had the nerve to ruffle Will's thick curls with a fleeting touch of his hand, "…and I mean both frightening and absolutely horrid." he clarified, as if that somehow made his intentionally insulting words any better or worse.

Before Will could say anything though, Matthew steamrolled on,

"But never mind it," his smile disappeared and he looked furious all of a sudden, glancing again to the doors at the sound of a pained scream, "we need to get off the ship, the savages have taken it." he moved then, glancing to the windows at the aft of the main quarters, "But we are not out of English waters, we can abandon ship and expect to be found shortly. This attack will not go unseen as we're not that far from Ireland's coast." he said, wide eyes full of hope.

He walked toward the windows with determination,

"Once we're to safety aboard a Company ship, we'll explain to the men who you are," Will turned and watched him throw open the windows, letting in fresh sea air, sending papers flying off the nearest desk surfaces, "we'll say you were forced to parade as a pirate to survive all this time, and considering you are an Earl of great import, they will certainly listen." he was saying, leaning his head out of the window to gauge the twenty-or-so foot drop from the window to the water.

When he determined the jump was survivable, he turned back and his hopeful look faltered as he set eyes on Will's deadpan expression,

"William?"

Will glanced up when he heard running footsteps above them, the sounds of pained groans followed and also the sounds of pirate laughter, and when he met Matthew's eyes again his cousin _finally_ looked uncertain, he finally looked wary.

Will, his expression unreadable, thought about his options here, and despite the idea he was considering sitting uncomfortably in his gut, he glanced to the window and then looked at his cousin again,

"Go Matthew, before you cannot anymore." he said quietly, the words feeling wrong in his mouth.

What he was doing was going against his real nature, the nature he'd so easily embraced as a pirate. Matthew was an enemy, letting Matthew go was against the code of the Baltic Pirates…it was against Lecter's code.

Oblivious to Will's thoughts and feelings, Matthew frowned even deeper, glancing around, glancing at the window and then foolishly, so foolishly, he came toward Will instead of climbing out of the window.

Matthew grabbed his forearm, his grip just a little too tight and his gaze a little sharper,

"Come with me, cousin, we'll forget _whatever_ it is that is happening here," Matthew said, apparently feeling very magnanimous and generous about his offer, his tone just slightly patronizing due to it, "this is not the life you're meant to have, you've a future as a nobleman waiting for you…grand lands, a pretty wife, some children, parties and friends." he was saying all of those things as if they would appeal to Will.

But really, they were insulting, revealing to Will that even as he stood before his cousin a man more dangerous than Matthew could hope to be, his cousin still saw him as a soft, blue eyed city boy destined to be nothing more than a weak, spoiled idiot, who was meant to be living lavishly and uselessly, far from the sea, far from danger, more dead than alive.

"You do not know me, _cousin_ ," Will said the familial word with blatant distaste, "I am not the man you seem to think me. And you are being an unknowingly insolent fool." he stated coldly. Matthew looked shocked and offended, his grip tightening on Will's forearm even as Will gave him a threatening once over, "You should leave now, before I make you a _dead_ fool for your trouble." he warned sincerely and ripped his arm from Matthew's grasp roughly, grabbing the other man by the shoulder in turn and shoving him toward the windows.

Matthew shook his head in disbelief,

"You _choose_ this? You choose them, the **pirates**?" he spat angrily, all traces of pleasantness replaced with disgust, "You choose that savage animal **Lecter** over proper, civil men?" he made a great mistake then when he drew his sword, but it was a mistake that lifted the ill feeling of wrong doing from Will's chest…

…because subconsciously, Will had wanted to kill Matthew, he'd just needed a reason.

One final push to remind him that the family he was born into was not his real family.

Matthew smirked in the way he had always done when he was so sure he was the biggest predator in the room, a man confident of his ability to kill another, pirate or otherwise. But he forgot that Will was among and a part of the most dangerous pirates and fleet to ever sail the seas, and furthermore, that Will had the same sword training that he'd had. He truly was a fool.

So he came at Will all the same, and Will deflected two swipes and a stab from Matthew's weapon, the final stab deflected with an arm shaking swipe and impact of his own sword against Matthew's. The other man, surprised and visibly reassessing the situation, narrowed his eyes then, as they slowly stepped around each other in the too cluttered space. Will knew Matthew had noticed the force behind his swing and was thinking of a new plan of attack.

But Will was not so weak as he'd been as a young boy, not any more.

"After I've killed you, I will _shame_ you…" Matthew decided to try and unsettle Will with words, likely remembering a boy who'd once cared for what his father and other people thought of him, "…I will tell your father what a savage you'd become, I will tell him that I cut you down, and that you begged me not to kill you in the end." he sounded _very_ pleased with that idea.

But Will was unfazed and unmoved, whatever feelings he'd had to spare his relative were now swallowed into the liquid black depths of his true nature, and when he smiled at Matthew that time, it was with a real and true curl of amusement to his fair lips,

"Funny that, as I've no intention of even giving you a _chance_ to beg." he responded flatly, eyebrows raised slightly, and then with intent to kill, he swung his sword at Matthew and unsheathed his second sword with a sharp hiss of metal on leather in fluent synchronicity.

Matthew was quick, he always had been, deflecting the first swing and avoiding the second slice made at his abdomen before he moved away quickly, his breathing a bit heavier now from his further shock at Will moving so surely toward him, to attack and **kill** him.

Will was still smiling at him, now though, it was all teeth and Matthew looked distinctly unsettled,

"You look affright, cousin." Will repeated Matthew's words, tilting his head like a curious crow and running his tongue over his bottom lip, "And I certainly do mean _frightened_." he added…just to clarify of course.

It enraged Matthew to be insulted, hotheaded as he was, and he came at Will again with a flurry of swipes, snarling and sneering, his sword catching the flailing end of one of the laces in Will's long sleeves. But Will didn't waste his energy or effort on a display of strength and skill, he just waited, deflected and evaded until the exact moment when Matthew got too overconfident.

And he did, eventually getting a little too close, just enough that Will hit his sword aside with a loud _clang_ against his own, before he elbowed Matthew in the face hard enough to send him back stepping with a stumble. He righted himself quickly enough, but then, Will hadn't intended to attack him while he was off balance, that would not have been as satisfying as killing him when he was able to see it coming.

Matthew snarled, blood now running from his nose and when he smiled his teeth were stained with blood too,

"It would seem you really aren't the boy I knew from before."

Will quite blatantly gave him an ' _oh, really'_ look that made it obvious he thought Matthew was very daft, which wiped the smile from the Company soldier's face abruptly and had him attacking again.

And that time, it was at the perfect speed and perfect angle for Will to kill the man in his trademark way, ducking down just enough and just lower than was expected as he lunged forward, swords positioned at his sides where he bent his arms and thrust them forward ahead of himself, driving them both straight into and through Matthew's abdomen, just under his rib cage, with enough force to briefly lift the man off the ground as Will came to stand at full height again, his face now inches from Matthew's and his breathing only slightly elevated from the exertion of their quick fight.

He heard the expected sound of Matthew's sword falling beside them and was completely calm even as his cousin coughed up blood onto his face. Will blinked sedately,

"It would seem that **you** , cousin…" he began quietly as Matthew twitched and trembled in pain, flexing his fingers around the hilts of his swords as he pressed them in just a bit more, resulting in more blood being coughed up to splatter across his lips and face, "…are exactly the boy I knew from before." he finished evenly. And then his mouth contorted into a snarl as he used all of his strength to twist his blades, counter and clockwise, inside Matthew's vulnerable abdomen, bringing forth a pained gurgling shout just as Will stepped back and followed through on his kicking shove and extraction of his swords, both of his blades coming away stained with thick blood.

He watched as Matthew crumpled to the floor of the cabin, not dead yet, but quickly dying, landing heavily on his knees first and then falling onto his side, twitching in pain as blood stained his royal navy uniform and the wooden floor beneath him.

Will sniffed, feeling almost indignant about the entire thing, and he was about to walk away toward the doors, to leave the main quarters, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge in that very unique way it did whenever Captain Lecter was near.

Will spun around and took in a sharp breath of air without consciously meaning to, finding Lecter standing just two feet away from him, their positions right then almost reminiscent of when they'd first met in the Captain's quarters of the Baltic Ripper.

Will didn't attempt to stop it as his breath stuttered out of his partially open, blood speckled mouth,

"Captain…" he said softly and breathily, noting with wide, slightly dilating blue eyes, how black Lecter's eyes were and how without his hat on, the wind flicked strands of his silver-brown hair fell handsome and sexily across his forehead and into his eyes.

"It took quite a while…but here you are, _finally_." Lecter spoke apropos of nothing, his voice a low, deeply sexy tone. And Will's breath hitched ever so slightly as Lecter brought one ring adorned hand up and brushed the backs of his knuckles along the curve of Will's bearded chin.

And Will forgot how to breathe, his awareness narrowing in acutely to the feeling of Lecter's touch against his skin, the roughness of his tanned knuckles and fingers, and it was intense for him, since the man hadn't touched him in such an…intimate and personal way since the very first time they met.

"Beautiful and stained with blood," Lecter continued, "a picture so lovely, so delectable…as to make me feel _starved_." he practically purred, the last word was said in a way that Will swore sounded obscenely sexual, making him all but melt, immediately feeling hot and overwhelmed with arousal.

Lecter was after all, not the only one starved.

He made a sound that was undeniably a moan, little and broken and half filled with quivering breaths, his pupils fully dilating as every fiber of his being, every nerve, lit up with sensation at the gravelly, hungry tone of Lecter's deep, accented voice.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but when Lecter's hands, large and strong and warm, came up to cradle his face, he damn near whined, shivering with desire and his body spasming with sensation despite only just becoming fully aroused. And what came next made Will feel delirious, as the man, -the demon- opened his mouth and leaned in…proceeding then to lick a slow hot stripe over Will's face, from his chin up and over his open mouth, finishing with a firm, slow suck against Will's top lip.

Will dropped his swords immediately, so they landed noisily at their booted feet, and he grasped desperately, with pale fingers at the man's blood coloured silk shirt as he licked once tentatively against Lecter's bottom lip in response, puckering his mouth into a slight kiss. But it ended there, because at that exact moment the Captain drew back from him, the man's hands sliding up just slightly to lightly grasp at Will's curls before they slid back down over his neck and shoulders and the touch was removed completely, leaving Will standing and staring at Lecter with half-lidded eyes, feeling unmoored and too hot, breathing as though he had been running a mile, lips still parted and some of the blood that had been staining his skin gone.

Lecter licked his lips slowly as he regarded Will up close, staring down at him from those two advantageous inches of height with an intensity that sent another shiver through Will's entire body, and he finally closed his lips as he swallowed just audibly, not sure of what would happen next, but unwilling to say or do anything that might interfere with Lecter's thoughts.

He was just considering leaning up to try for a proper kiss when, despite the blackness still dominating his eyes, Lecter turned away and shattered the intense moment between them.

Will blinked a few times languidly, feeling adrift now with an excess of arousal and desire hot in his chest, and he watched the Captain turn and reach for something, and when he faced Will again it was with raised arms, settling Will's wide brimmed black hat atop his head and slowly sliding his fingers along the rim as he smirked just so.

"There is nothing of any great worth in these quarters." he spoke in his usual all-business tone, as if nothing had happened, and Will just stared at his handsome, stubbled face, disappointed but not unused to Lecter's unpredictable nature. He was also intent on what his Captain was saying, and his head was quickly clearing, his mind refocusing, "Leave it be and find Mason," and as if to prove Will right that he had trouble reading the older man, Lecter used a knuckle beneath his chin to tip his head back, the older man looking over his face with an obvious interest, a _desiring_ interest, "tell him I said to burn everything." Lecter said quietly, almost in a cutting whisper.

And then once again the contact was gone and the Captain was walking away toward the doors, all grace, lean lines, excellent posture and dark clothes of silk, leather and bone,

"We set sail within the hour." he added without looking back and then he was gone, through the doors and out of sight and Will let out a trembling breath as his eyes briefly slid shut.

He felt overwhelmed, but still very aroused and entirely pleased and excited by the new development.

He knew from the look the pirate Captain had given him, even without having heard the man say he felt _starved_ , that Lecter **wanted** him, desired him, and feeling a new thrill at the thought, Will's face was split with one of his most genuine smiles, a rare thing that almost hurt his cheeks.

He quickly swiped a hand across his mouth though, wiping the smile away before glancing around with raised eyebrows and his usual look of disinterest settled over his face, even looking down at Matthew's lifeless body to make sure _no one_ had seen his giddy grin. Assured that his little slip in his intimidating demeanor hadn't been seen and his hard-won reputation compromised, Will crouched down to retrieve his weapons, cleaning the blades of his swords off on Matthew's uniform, before he stood up to neaten his overall appearance and re-sheath his swords.

Only after he was sure he was seemly and completely recomposed, did he stride from the main quarters, intent on carrying out Lecter's orders, even as he was distracted by the tingling, warm sensation still affecting his lips where Lecter's own had touched his.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your thoughts?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- It would seem that I have beat my own deadline for this! I was supposed to upload it sometime next week, but I had some free time and here it is!  
> \- I have extended the chapter count to 10 because I don't want the chapter length to get too out of hand, I tend to do that and I'm trying to avoid it here xD  
> \- This is not beta-read, please report any mistakes to me!
> 
> NB - Just in case anyone is wondering about Will and Hannibal's hats; Hannibal's is similar to the hat Mads' character Rocherfort wore, except black and with some embellishments, whereas Will wears a wide set tricorn cocked hat made of black leather. Like [this](https://s5.postimg.cc/z4byp3cuv/tricorn-pirate-hat-leather-14185-p.jpg) except black.  
> \- I researched it and it turns out most pirates used Spanish minted pirate coins, no matter where there were from, so I've just used those.  
> \- Has anyone actually seen young Tom Wisdom? Picture [this](https://s5.postimg.cc/lnf068a93/Tom-_Wisdom.jpg) .
> 
> Fun fact - 1700's makeup will KILL you, literally! (haha)
> 
> Thanks to everyone supporting this story! I hope you all enjoy!

 

* * *

Due to their run-in with The Company ships and the haul of cargo they'd managed to loot off the well-stocked vessels, Captain Lecter decided they would detour back to Polish-Lithuania to unload and do some more trading. It would be a fortnight's delay, sailing to make port and then sailing out again, which was no insignificant amount of time, but the ships were now overstocked and as such would need to have their loads lightened lest all the excess slow them down through the hellishly cold weather of the extreme North.

They'd only be staying over for two days though before they'd set sail again, but two days was more than worth it for the crew, who would see themselves working harder than ever on the first day ashore if only so they could have the next day entirely free for themselves, whether it was to see family, get drunk or find bed company, the latter two most often going hand in hand.

But while the crew at large was in high spirits about making port in their homeland, Will felt the complete opposite way, because going home meant there was a chance Captain Lecter would visit Froideveaux's establishment to seek out Randall.

 _'The literal whore.'_ Will thought sourly, and then immediately scolded himself for such judgmental thinking. He frowned, blinking languidly as he sighed into the cool breeze; he was standing on the sterncastle deck at The Ripper's stationary helm, leaning with his arms between the handles of the wheel and staring out and the beautiful ship dotted black water, not really taking any of the sight in however as his attention was almost entirely focused on listening for the sound of the Captain's cabin doors opening below.

Will did not want to risk missing Hannibal leaving.

Not that he had any idea what he'd do if the man did leave, let alone if the Captain did in fact decide to pay for Randall's company. The thought of that made Will clench his teeth and fists tightly, not only because he couldn't do anything about it, but also because the idea of the Captain doing that _after_ having practically kissed him a week ago on The Company ship infuriated him. Whether his anger was unreasonable or unfounded or not, the fact was it pissed him off.

It also grated on his nerves to **no** end that in the week or so of sailing that had passed, Captain Lecter had gone right back to treating him like a plain crew member, sure, it was the high ranking treatment the likes of which he gave Bedelia, Alana and Margot, but still just a crew member. The whole thing made him feel like a desperate idiot, and the Captain's contradicting actions, words and behavior made him feel as if he was being played around with.

He clenched his jaw tighter still as he considered that maybe that's all that it was, maybe the Demon Captain Hannibal Lecter just found his over eagerness to be entertaining, because really, if the man found bedding a prostitute to be a preferable option over sleeping with Will then how seriously could he really be taking all of this?

He averted his gaze from glaring out at the black night and blacker ocean when he heard noises carrying on the wind from inside the portside city, down all the way to the docks; sounds of both drunken merriment and fighting, nothing new, all sounds familiar to him now.

He knew Beverly and Jimmy had headed into the town to get drunk at their usual chosen tavern since they'd invited him along before they left about an hour ago. He'd declined to join them and they hadn't questioned his decision as he often turned them down when they would head off to get drunk, whether it was below deck during the evenings while sailing or whenever they made port somewhere or dropped anchor.

But now, hearing the sounds of everyone enjoying the evening for what it was – some time off before weeks and weeks at sea- Will spared a quick glance downwards, to where beneath the sterncastle deck the Captain's cabin was…and then he half rolled his eyes at himself, mentally questioning just how pathetic he could be. Having lost patience with his own behavior, he abruptly stood up from leaning on the helm wheel, turned around and headed for the stairs leading down to the main deck.

He walked loudly down the stairs, his boots clipping the swabbed and polished wood as he descended, and the fact that the docks and ship was so quite allowed his footsteps to resound. Wondering if Captain Lecter would have heard, he couldn't help glancing back at the Captain's cabin doors a final time after he'd crossed the deck diagonally, but there was no movement at the doors whatsoever. Snorting irritably to himself, he brought a hand up to pull the brim of his hat down lower over his eyes, and he didn't look back again as he left the ship, making his way down the gangplank and onto the dock jetty, from which he strode with renewed purpose for the evening; intent on heading into town and finding his crewmates and hopefully some good ale or rum.

He was walking at a steady pace and the people in the main street, recognizing him or not and whether drunk and sober, all gave him a fairly wide berth as he passed them, because he cut an intimidating figure these days and he knew it. His lean form was presently decked out in all black; from his hat to his boots - leather, sateen and laces -, weapon holsters fastened across his chest and his belt around his waist where his two swords flanked his hips, just below where his pistol and dagger were suspended against his sides.

He was as dangerous as he appeared and in quite a bad mood, regarding the people around him threateningly from beneath his hat as he walked.

He was passing a particularly rowdy bar cum hotel when he glanced into the dodgy alley between two buildings. There was a rather unappealing looking female prostitute leaning against the wall of the bar, and she greeted him with a wiggling fingered wave, smiling salaciously with teeth that were yellowed and slatted with some tarnished gold. Her hair was a mess of open red curls and the black bodice she wore with and off white petticoat revealed an ample bosom and wide hips.

He dismissed her from his sight with a smooth turn of his head, facing forward and looking up along the inclining street. But while his thoughts didn't linger on her per se, having seen the prostitute made his thoughts wander, not for the first time, to the idea that _maybe_ it was time that he finally get himself some company of that sort for the evening, he certainly had no shortage of options.

That thought gave him pause, making him stop halfway into the street that lead to the tavern he knew he'd find Bev and Jimmy in. He took in a breath of the filthy city air and lowered his eyes to the ground for a moment, a hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his right side sheathed falchion as he thought again, with no small amount of arousal and frustration, about Captain Lecter's tongue trailing over his mouth so fleetingly yet enticingly.

The older man had licked fresh blood flecks and sweat from his face and Will recalled vividly that he'd smelled deliciously of musk and leather with robust French wine on his breath. He'd been replaying that moment in his head over and over, day and night, and each time after he was only left to think about the Captain's intentional distance toward him in the days that followed and how he was beginning to feel resentment for it.

It made him angry all over again and he took in a sharp breath before he turned around swiftly and walked back toward the main street, heading now in the direction of Froideveaux's, deciding quite suddenly that there was absolutely no reason to still be a virgin with all that was changing in his life, or any reason to be pathetically waiting for a man who may very well not even have a real interest in ever bedding him.

And that final thought made him even angrier, because it wasn't even just about Lecter taking him to bed, the truth was that Will wanted the Captain beyond just that. He wanted to make him proud, to be seen by him, respected, wanted, desired, accepted, to be had with permanence and to have the man in the same way, until death by a pirates life did them part.

And he hated his thoughts too, he hated how romanticized and sappy it all sounded to him, and to think that Lecter would probably strand him at sea if he knew what silly nonsense Will imagined. He also hated how trite it was to have fallen head over heels in love like some typical fool. But hating it didn't change his awareness that he very probably had fallen in love with Captain Lecter, mostly without having even realized it in the beginning and once he'd become aware of it, there'd been no stopping it.

It just hurt in some sharp, slicing way deep in his belly, realizing that now, and more and more every day, that he was wasting his time, and he honestly didn't want to make himself a fool any longer, because he was indeed making himself a fool.

Surely if Bev had noticed he was attracted to the Captain then others would have by now too and they were all probably laughing at him behind his back. And Beverly had told him, she'd warned from the start that Lecter wouldn't have him that way, not as a crew member of the Baltic fleet. So, it was very likely the man was just toying with him for fun. It sickened Will to think of it, and feeling incensed at possibly being the butt of everyone's jokes, he didn't hesitate as he approached Froideveaux's.

The few people loitering near the entrance moved quickly out of his way, and once he opened one of the large black doors and entered, a number of heads turned to look at him from all around the large, dimly lit and noisy establishment; mostly the staff and unoccupied working girls and men. The place was crowded with people of the client variety, pirates and some commoner city dwellers, all filling the seats in the lounging and bar areas, the walkways, passages, and Will could see a few being led up stairwells which lead off to the private rooms.

He knew enough by now to know the way the place worked.

Will cast a quick glare around at the lingering stares he was receiving as he walked into the smoke clouded bordello, which smelled thickly of sweat, rum and perfume, all mixing together to make Will nauseous instantly…although perhaps it was the sudden bout of nervousness he was experiencing that was largely contributing to it. He berated himself for that feeling immediately however, finding it ridiculous that he could _kill_ men but be nervous to have sex with one.

And it would _certainly_ need to be a man, as that had been Will's most shameful desire and secret as a nobleman; being attracted to other men, wanting to be sexually involved with another man. But he was no longer ashamed of anything he desired; being a pirate had made him immune to polite society's preferences of conformity and what they considered acceptable.

So, having sufficiently steeled himself for the reason he was there, he continued to walk slowly around the edge of the crowded room, swiping a sea-air clammy hand over his bearded cheek as he turned his attention away from the lounging and bar area. As expected, when he didn't go toward the lounging area or the bar and began looking expectantly around, one of Froideveaux's assistant girls took notice and came up to him quickly and with a welcoming and broad smile.

Her blue eyes, facial features and dark brown hair had him arching an eyebrow in mild surprise, seeing as how the young girl quite strongly resembled Captain Abigail of the Baltic Shrike. Of course, the similarities stopped at the basic facial features, because Abigail never wore her hair down, nor did she wear makeup and she was never anything less than fully dressed. Additionally, if any man looked at Abigail in the leering manner most of the men were looking at this young woman, she'd gut them with her hunting knife, which as far as Will understood, she'd looted off a fallen pirate from a clan of Berbers the Baltic Pirates had devastated a few years before, when Abigail had only been 15 and her now deceased father had still been Captain of The Baltic Shrike.

This girl however had delicate features painted with Venetian Ceruse, along with amply applied rouge to redden her full cheeks and coal darkening her eyes and eyebrows. Her hair fell in dark twirls over her thin neck and shoulders, the latter of which was on open display in the scant and clingy partially see-through material of what appeared to be her undergarments, complete with a tightly fastened bodice that amplified her cleavage, as most of the women, not even in the line of prostitution work, often preferred.

"Mister Graham, welcome to Froideveaux's." she greeted him with put upon-coyness, using his name with a familiarity that revealed she was entirely aware of who he was, "How can I help you get comfortable on this _hot_ evening? Would you like something to help you relax, or perhaps _someone_?" she tilted her head with a slow wink and smile before gesturing around the establishment; placing her hands on her hips and pushing her chest out, bobbing one bared shoulder.

The entire display made him feel weary of the situation and all of its excessive exhibitionism. It put his teeth on edge really, for how much it bothered him that he was going to go this particular route, but he was still angry and frustrated and was quite resolute in his determination to not back down from his goal to be rid of his sexual chastity. Sighing quietly and clenching his teeth, he cast a glance around the room for no other reason than not having to look at the girl's stark white painted face, before he answered,

"The latter." his tone flat and uninterested.

She was quick to beam up at him, leaning a little too close for Will's taste when she said,

"Certainly, _whatever_ you want. Did you have anyone in mind or would you like to see what we have available for your pleasure?"

At her question though, for a split second Will's thoughts were filled with the image of the prostitute Hannibal favoured and he was so put off that for a moment he half turned away, tempted to leave, but then he exhaled loudly, nostrils flaring, before he cocked an eyebrow and glanced to the back section of the bordello,

"I'll take my pick." he grit out.

"Very good." she was smiling again, and then she glanced over him, "What price range would you be interested in, sir?" she unsubtly asked to find out if he had the coin to pay for what he was asking.

Will settled a glare on her now from under the shadowing brim of his hat, and it made her smile falter as she audibly swallowed. Appeased somewhat by her fear of him, he reached into the deep front pocket of his trousers and brought his hand out just enough for her to see his palm full of doubloons, the common currency amongst pirates which were made of pure gold.

"Oh! Alright, sir, please _come_ this way." she was all smiles again, a bit more lewdly now too as she turned with as much alluring sexiness as she could and then sashayed ahead of him. Clenching his teeth in annoyance, he followed her through the establishment to another set of doors which Will recalled, sourly, that she'd gone through to fetch Randall for Captain Lecter that night he'd first witnessed the older man take the prostitute to up the stairs to the rooms.

Walking into the back area and leaving the noise of the crowd and the music of fiddles, hautboys and drums behind them, Will was far from surprised that it smelled more like perfume than sweat and alcohol in the backroom, as this was not an area where patrons were allowed to linger.

"Girls!" the assistant called out once they'd entered and were closed inside the large room with 15 or so female prostitutes scattered around the seating. Will glanced over them all fleetingly and then he looked at the assistant as she waved the girls over, and feeling a small bloom of panic in his chest as the women started to stand up and come over, he discreetly turned his head to her, lowering his voice when he said,

"Not a woman."

If she was surprised by his words, she didn't show it. She simply apologized with a smile and then waved away the girls before gesturing for Will to follow her again. He did so, walking across the room behind her and through another set of doors which led to a room occupied with males who weren't doing anything much different than the females had been; sitting around playing cards, talking and waiting to be _rented_ for the evening.

Will figured from the layout of the place, that it meant the prostitutes in the backrooms were the pricy ones, and the ones who flaunted themselves openly in the main area were the more common brassers and less costly sorts, which was what Jimmy had meant when he said he wished he could afford Randall, as he was probably one of the expensive ones. Will thought it was ridiculous that Jimmy was forlorn about his lacking choices in prostitutes, since all Jimmy needed to do was spend less of his coin on rum and then he'd be able to afford better bed company. And really, who decided the expensive ones from the common ones? The whole thing seemed tasteless to Will.

The assistant had closed them into the new room and she called out,

"Boys!" in much the same tone she'd called upon the women a moment before and Will forced himself to focus his attention on the group of men standing up and walking over to them, some swaying and some swaggering to display themselves. Unconsciously Will skimmed over the lot, blue eyes searching for the young man Hannibal favoured, and when he didn't see him, Will only felt worse for it.

Because there was always the chance that Captain Lecter had come out to Froideveaux's and had chosen him for the evening.

He was clenching his already tense jaw and had habitually placed a hand on the hilt of his right sword when he noticed the gathered men now lined up before him were trying to smile suggestively, but were mostly just looking uncomfortable and wary. He glanced sidelong at the assistant who also looked nervous and it was then that he realized his facial expression was probably quite murderous at the moment. He didn't care quite frankly, but he knew that that attitude was counterproductive to his reason for being there, so he made a conscious effort to ease his expression into something more neutral before he cleared his throat and nodded at the assistant to go ahead.

She audibly breathed out before smiling coyly again and gesturing to the men,

"Your pick Mister Graham." she invited him to choose.

For the first time since walking into Froideveaux's and having only taken note of how the assistant looked, Will took the time to notice other faces now, trailing his sharp, dark gaze over all of the long haired men, all of varying complexions and physiques, but all of them lean and fit and good looking in the typical ways. Looking at them properly though, it occurred to Will that he hadn't had a clue of what he was looking for when coming to the bordello. Because as it stood since meeting Captain Lecter, he hadn't given a thought to another man, and the fresh faced men his own age from his noble days and like those who stood before him now, no longer held the same appeal as they once did.

Despite his indecision, he didn't want to stand looking like a lost idiot in front of his present audience, so he skimmed over the men again and his gaze settled on the tallest one; he was about Captain Lecter's height, if not taller, as well as being leanly built. His hair was long, but not long enough to reach his shoulders and it was worn open instead of loosely tied back, and while he was smiling in a sultry manner, it looked almost natural. Not forced or put upon on his handsome, clean shaven face, the left side of which was complemented by a single beauty spot.

As Will sized him up, the man's lighter blue-hued eyes met his own and he tilted his head, smirking with his rather full lips in a way that was curiously pleased.

"Him." Will said stiffly. He was still feeling nauseous but not allowing himself to be scared out of going through with this.

The assistant followed his gaze and waved the man forward,

"Very good, Mister Graham this is Anthony," she introduced as he approached and all the other men moved away again, his chosen company walking over, all long legs and lightly swaying hips, "Anthony, you'll keep Mister Graham company this evening, hm?" she said playfully.

Will had been holding eye contact with the taller man, but once he came much closer Will looked away,

"When do I settle payment?" he asked the assistant, all business.

"Now, now, Mister Graham…" Anthony was the one to answer however, drawing Will's attention back to him with an English accent, a smooth voice and easy grin, "…we wouldn't want you paying before you've received all the _adequate_ satisfaction you're due this evening." and just like that the assistant was leaving and Anthony had boldly run a hand down Will's arm and winked at him, tipping his head to gesture for Will to follow him.

Will's first urge was to sneer and brush a hand over where Anthony had touched him, but he stilled himself from doing so, because despite his irascibility at being touched randomly, it would do him no good this evening, since he was quite literally there to be touching and do a lot of touching himself if all went according to plan.

"Gods." he muttered under his breath and followed Anthony as the man led the way to a staircase and began ascending; it was obviously another more discreet way to access the private rooms.

They passed another assistant who seemed to be positioned at the top of the stairs solely to direct them to the rooms not currently in use. Anthony smiled at her while Will completely ignored the smile she offered him, realizing more and more as he neared he destination room that his nausea wasn't entirely based on nerves.

It was actually _this_ , the situation, the reality of what he was heading to do. Will had _never_ imagined his first time having sex would be with someone he'd have to pay for it. It felt so wrong, as though he were robbing himself of something monumental, something he'd built up to be something important in his mind. But now, instead of kissing, touching and being touched by someone he truly _wanted_ , he was on his way to do so with someone worth no more than 3 _escudos_ , on some probably unclean sheets.

"You look quite angry this evening Mister Graham." Anthony spoke, making Will look away from the middle distance of the hallway directly into the taller man's eyes, and he found himself pleased when Anthony's easy smile wavered slightly at the hardness of his gaze, "And you've quite a lot of weapons on your person," he stopped walking at one of the dark wood doors in the dimly lit hall and smirked as he placed a hand on the old worn handle, "am I in for a rough evening?" he winked.

And he was obviously teasing, but even though Will knew that, he still found his face and ears getting hot at the implication behind it. He was just grateful that he was wearing his hat and that the lighting was bad, so that the other man wouldn't notice his juvenile blushing.

"Perhaps…" he managed to say through some gravel in his tone, "…but rest-assured, by no means will it be pleasurable for you if I involve my weapons." and he hadn't even tried to sound anything other than blandly informing, but Anthony curiously looked rather turned on as well as very nervous, but only fleetingly and then he blinked at Will, trying to quickly recover his sultry smile.

When he couldn't quite manage it, he looked away and opened the door, waiting a beat afterward, seemingly uncertain of whether to lead or follow; perhaps nervous to face his back to Will too, which was quite amusing to said pirate. Will didn't smile though, he just tipped his head gesturing for Anthony to enter first. The taller man then walked in and Will followed, taking slow steps into the dubiously scented room –perfumed a bit too much, likely to hide some other smell no doubt. He cast his critical gaze around, taking in the sight of the made up bed with two side cabinets flanking it, the closed windows – to keep the noise of the street out unless otherwise desired, Will supposed- and finally the only other piece of furniture in the room, which was a single old wingback chair in the corner.

His top lip curled up just a bit at imagining Captain Lecter being in a room like this for sex with a prostitute, then he realized he was doing that very same thing and his lip curled even further.

"Perhaps you might like to relax a bit Mister Graham." once again Will was reminded by Anthony's voice that the man was even there with him, and he looked to the taller man slowly, his eyes widening and then narrowing when he noticed that Anthony had already unlaced his flimsy white shirt and his hairless well-built chest was now on show.

He seemed to wait for Will to meet his eyes again before he began approaching slowly –cautiously- and what Will imagined he was meant to find attractively sensual in pace and sway, but all he felt was _trapped_ and aggravated, especially with the door and window shut and Anthony closing in.

For a stark, blood coloured moment in his vision the temptation to unsheathe his dagger and press it to the other man's jugular was very powerful, his right hand clenching and unclenching, knuckles going white briefly. And Will couldn't even pretend to not know why he felt this way, so angry and tense. Not only was it because this wasn't how he'd imagined his first time being, but also because he _knew_ he was in love with someone, so this was not what he wanted, or _who_ he wanted either.

Anthony had now come close enough that Will could smell the heat of his body in the claustrophobic space of the small room, the mingling scents of salty sweat and some sort of perfume on his skin that wasn't feminine but was odd, unfamiliar and not to his liking, an unnaturally spicy musk; perhaps the perfume men in this business used?

Moreover, he sort of regretted choosing someone taller than him now, since he had to tilt his head back to make eye contact with Anthony at their close proximity, but only _sort of_ because honestly Will had always found tall men –specifically taller than himself- attractive and he now felt the slightest fluttering of curious anticipation in his belly.

 _'Perhaps it'll be fine…I just need to get it over with, just let go.'_ he told himself.

Anthony was smirking again, lopsided and mischievous, as he very boldly brought his hands up to the buckle of Will's waist belt, which bore the weight of his swords, as he asked,

"May I?" in a low, seductive tone. It took Will a moment to psych himself up to give the go ahead, in the end requiring him to replay the mental image of Hannibal bringing Randall up the stairs to one of these shoddy rooms to lay with him, before he was able to stiffly nod.

Anthony seemed _very_ pleased then, his gaze intense with interest and Will abruptly severed eye contact, opting instead to look down and watch as Anthony's long fingers began to nimbly pull the leather through the buckle, the pin releasing next. Will quickly brought his hands up to take a hold of the straps, relieving the weight of his holstered swords from Anthony's hands.

Will glanced at Anthony's chin as he moved his hands around to take both ends of his waist belt in one, careful with his precious swords as he leaned over and settled them against the corner wall next to the door. He'd barely stood up properly again when Anthony began undoing the buttons and lacing of his pants, his actions more heated now as he leaned in close as he spoke,

"I must say, this is quite exciting actually." he said smoothly, tone all lust and suggestion.

Will raised his head enough that he could see the man's nose from under the brim of his hat,

"What is?" he asked, surprised by how gruff his voice sounded, and not with arousal, but the tension of restraining himself from taking Anthony's forward hands and breaking his spindly fingers.

Anthony was grinning now while Will's breathing escalated with each confident move the taller man made, soon having his pants unfastened and slipping a hand inside to take Will's still mostly limp cock into his hot grasp. At being touched intimately for the first time by a hand other than his own, Will blinked hard and stifled a sharp inhale, instead pinching his lips together and huffing out a stream of hot air between them from his nose, his mind and body both warring over whether to reject or welcome the foreign touch.

Anthony leaned in and down suddenly, just enough to bump the brim of Will's hat off balance, making him tilt his head back and their eyes meet,

"Going to bed with The Stag," Anthony hummed, eyes bright, "the pirate infamous and feared for his brutal and skilled execution method." he'd begun stroking Will slowly into hardness and Will was torn between focusing on his annoyance at the prostitutes familiarity and the distraction of the first tethers of pleasure from his ministrations. "Merciless and quick…" Anthony then brought his hand out from his pants and placed both on Will's abdomen before sliding them under his shirt and settling them on his stomach, "…putting both swords through his victims, just here." he caressed the firm muscles and soft skin of Will's abdomen.

He sounded genuinely enthralled by it all, and judging by his earlier mixed reaction at the mention of having a rough night and Will's weapons, Will assumed he was one of those sorts who were aroused by being in dangerous situations with dangerous people, possibly by rough sex too. After all, while sadists didn't need masochists to get their kicks, the opposite of that was true for masochists. Although, whether Anthony was a sadist or a masochist, Will couldn't yet tell.

He was still contemplating the prostitute's pathology when Anthony suddenly leaned in to kiss him, eyes drifting near closed as he did so. Will narrowed his eyes cuttingly and snatched a hand up to grasp Anthony by the front base of his throat, halting him and his alcohol scented breath just a few inches from his mouth,

"There'll be no kissing." he said plainly, coldly too mind you, and he saw Anthony swallow a bit thickly before nodding and easing back, his hands sliding down Will's abdomen again.

"Alright, sweethear-…

"Don't call me that." Will snapped harshly, teeth clenched and bared and feeling very unimpressed now, losing what little hardness he'd gained from the partial handjob he'd received a moment before.

 _'This is not sustainable.'_ the thought occurred to him like a rush through his mind, everything about the situation suddenly just feeling too wrong and making him feel caustically angry.

Anthony took in a breath, smirking as he leaned back, raising his hands at his sides in a sign of surrender,

"Very well." he inclined his head, "Shall we discuss what I can do for you?" he was back to smooth talking and smiling, "Perhaps you'd enjoy my mouth on you? Hm? Before you let me know whether you'd like to be inside me, or have me inside of you." his smile was definitely salacious now, his gaze trailing over Will from head to toe.

And while his words should have turned Will on, it only aggravated him further…to think of Captain Lecter in this situation, and now himself as well. And very suddenly Will felt that if he didn't get some breathing space he was likely to break Anthony's hands, which were now angling to get his cock out of his trousers as the taller man lowered himself to his knees.

He stopped the action by grabbing Anthony's wrists, perhaps a little tighter than necessary and he pushed them away, quickly refastening the buttons of his pants as he muttered that he needed to take a piss. And with that he was moving away, yanking open the door and walking out of the room. He shut it behind him a bit loudly, leaving Anthony confused and still on his knees inside. Once outside of the room he took in a breath, taking his hat off his head and grimacing to himself before he glanced both ways down the thankfully empty hall.

He spotted an open window at the end of the hall and immediately walked toward it, absently wiping some gathered sweat from his brow before brushing his unruly ocean-sticky curls back from his forehead with another grimace. He was looking forward to taking a breath of outside air, expecting that even if it wasn't fresh air, it'd make him feel a bit less stifled…but then as he crossed by another hallway turning off to the left, Will glanced down it and spotted the person he'd been unconsciously looking for since he'd arrive at the brothel.

Walking along it with his back facing Will was Randall, the prostitute Captain Lecter favoured, and then, not having seen or heard him there, Randall didn't even look around as he stopped to open a door and disappeared into the room, closing it again behind him. Will at once felt jealous and newly furious at the sight of Randall _there_ , and though he had no reason to, before he could stop himself he was striding down the hall to the same room, placing his hat absently back on his head and forgetting about his undone pants laces as he grasped the door handle, opened it and walked in.

Will barely looked around the stuffy, dim room before his eyes fell on the lithe form of the young prostitute standing near the bed. Randall was sliding his shirt off his shoulders, seemingly unfazed by someone entering the room after him, which meant he was expecting a **client**. And seething now, wondering who it would be, Will shut the door with a snap of his wrist so that it slammed. That got Randall's attention, causing him to turn around quickly with his shirt half off his arms and his eyes wide, his short ponytail having whipped to the side to sit on his shoulder when he turned so abruptly.

Then something odd happened, Randall's tense shoulders dropped, his face relaxed and he smiled in that customer friendly way they all generally did,

"Evening Mister Graham," his voice was all honeyed, coy and polite, "I think you're in the wrong room, Anthony should be in another room waiting for you. You can ask Georgia at the top of the stairs to help you, sir." he informed with such casualness that it made Will realize his _infamy_ had made him well known enough that everyone in the damn whorehouse probably knew who he was and would likely know he was meant to up in a room sleeping with a prostitute.

Will's mouth turned down at the corners at the knowledge of having his private business aired so openly, but he only had himself to blame, having been driven by anger into coming there in the first place, now he was truly regretting it. Despite knowing he didn't need to be ashamed of anything, and he wasn't, there was still a part of him that valued his privacy and dignity. The regret and sudden self-consciousness he felt made him glare at Randall, who just frowned and blinked at him expectantly, probably waiting for him to leave.

But, oh, no, despite knowing that he should, because he technically had no place being angry about who Captain Lecter slept with, and despite knowing the prostitute was blameless, it wasn't enough to stop his impulsive angry reaction. Because the knowledge that Randall could have and **had** had what he could not was unacceptable… he'd changed so much, come so far, learned to take what he could and give nothing back, _the pirates way_ , so he wasn't about to just let this go.

"Uh, Mister Grah...?" Randall started to say but then he cut himself off and took a step back because Will crossed the distance between them with quick strides, and it was the easiest thing for him to wrap one strong hand around Randall's skinny neck and shove him backwards until his back and head hit the wall. Holding him there firmly in place, Will wasn't even bothered by his flailing, Randall first getting his shirt off from restricting his arms and then he was grabbing at Will's forearm and trying to push at his shoulders, frowning in confusion as Will cut off his air.

Randall gasped out a question, it sounded like he was asking what the hell Will was doing, his blue eyes wide and were curiously angrier than they were frightened. Will held him fast, eyes narrowed to slits as he used his free hand to swat Randall's grasping hand off his right shoulder as he grit out from between his bared teeth,  
"Who are you _servicing_ tonight, hm?" he asked in a hissing low voice, leaning in close and seething at the deeply frowning and now red-faced prostitute.

"Wha?" Randall gasped out.

"Is it Captain Lecter?" he spat, voice still low and threatening, even as Randal frowned deeper in confusion and shook his head without hesitation, but Will snapped back immediately, " **Is it**?" demanding to hear it again; Randall only shook his head more firmly now.

With a grunt and sneer of frustration, Will clung to the skinny neck of the prostitute for a few seconds longer before he let go, ignoring the way Randall crumpled to the floor in a coughing fit, shirtless and holding his slowly bruising throat with both hands.

Not able to get a handle on his volatile temper right then, Will turned to leave, embarrassed with himself for the pointless loss of control and deciding he would grab his affects from the room where Anthony waited and just leave the whorehouse –to which he'd _never_ return. It actually sounded like an excellent idea to go back to the ship and get drunk below deck. He would sleep off this ridiculous stint and punish himself with a hangover the next day, he deserved it. Dammit.

 _'Captain Lecter will probably find out about this at some point.'_ he thought as he crossed the room with a newly sick feeling in his stomach, imagining the older man finding his behavior to be absolutely pathetic and unbecoming of a pirate of the Baltic Fleet.

He was at the door and about to open it and storm out when Randall spoke up in a now raspy tone from being half strangled,

"I get paid to do this, you know." he said in a notably annoyed tone and Will stopped walking, half turning back as Randall added, "It's my damned job, you shou-…" another few coughs, "…shouldn't take it so _personally_ that he comes here."

For a split second Will wondered what reasons Randall must think he was taking it personally for, but then a more pressing question came to mind and he turned all the way around, narrowing his sharp blue gaze on the prostitute who was slowly getting to his feet, still holding his neck lightly with one hand while he leaned the other against the wall for support. He was wisely keeping his wary gaze on Will, who was shaking his head as he asked,

"That's just it, why **does** he come here?" he took a slow unconscious step forward and Randall immediately backed up against the wall, "Why does he come to you? Why does he come to Clarissa? What is it about you that interests him?" he took another two steps closer, fists clenched.

He had to wonder why, because he couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand why Captain Lecter would show interest in him one moment and then just _not_ the next.

Randall, oblivious to Will's personal angst, merely frowned and arched an eyebrow,

"Claris-…you mean Clarice?" he rasped out, leaning back against the wall.

"Whatever!" Will snapped a bit loudly and thoroughly enjoyed watching Randall flinch back, "Surely he doesn't _need_ to pay for sex, so why?" he walked closer still.

Randall, having nowhere else to back up to, seemed to realize this and he stood up straighter instead of cowering, speaking as steadily as he could around his bruised throat muscles,

"I don't know," Will made an unconscious growl of irritation and Randall raised his eyebrows and his hands at his sides, similar to how Anthony had done earlier, "really, I don't. Maybe just because he can, or…" he trailed off because Will was only a few feet away and he gave Randall an expectant eyebrow tick, "…or, if I had to _venture_ a guess, I'd say it's because Clarice and I don't talk about or mind how he is." he added quietly, swallowed thickly afterward.

And didn't that just raise more questions than it answered!

"How he is? What the hell does that mean?" Will snapped harshly and took another step closer, "How the hell is he, then?"

Randall had the nerve to look at him like he was an idiot,

"That's the point, we _don't_ talk about it." he repeated with a shake of his head.

"I want to know."  
"Well, I can't tell you." Randall said back immediately, and his resolve looked pretty damn fortified, which only served to annoy Will.

So, thinking it might encourage Randall to speak up, he slipped his dagger free from his torso holster, which Anthony hadn't had the chance to divest him of earlier, and held the keenly sharp weapon up for Randall to see it, to see just how nicely it caught the low lights of the room against the thick, sharp and curved blade,

"Are you sure you can't?" he asked almost nicely now, smirking slowly.

He was genuinely surprised however when Randall, despite having paled visibly at the sight of the blade, nervously looking between the dagger and Will's sinister expression, he still haltingly shook his head,

"No, I can't…" and on the spot Will decided he was going to kill this son of a whore for thinking there was a bluff to call between them, but before he could make a move forward Randall added sincerely, "…because I respect him more than I fear you."

That statement gave Will pause, wiping the murderous expression off his face as he blinked blankly at the prostitute before him. Randall was plain and pale and shaking slightly, not much of a sight to behold at all, but his blue eyes were filled with resolution and only just tinged with fear. It meant something though, that a man who was feared beyond words and with good reason throughout the great seas, could have even prostitutes who were loyal enough to die for him out of respect and **not** fear. It seemed that amidst seas of pirates who were hunted by the authorities, who were said to find no loyalty amongst themselves even, that that simply wasn't true where Captain Hannibal Lecter and the Baltic people were concerned.

They revered and respected him, he was one of them.

"You would die to keep this secret for him?" he asked with a bit of lingering incredulity, still somewhat disbelieving. Randall, for all that he was definitely not in a position to sass anyone, settled a rather beady eyed look at Will when he flatly responded,

"The fact that you have to ask is probably the reason he wouldn't trust you to know."

That comment caught Will's tripwire temper, and following the second it took for a single blink between them Will had Randall grasped firmly by his hair, yanking him closer harshly as he brought his blade up and sliced. All Randall managed was a quiet yelp as Will's blade dragged across his skin followed by a deafening _snick_ …

…and then it was just Randall's heavy, panicked breathing and the muffled sounds from beyond the closed windows filtering into the space of the dimly lit room.

Randall fell back against the wall with wide eyes, a trembling hand touching the bleeding, albeit shallow, cut across the side of his neck as he breathed erratically and unsteadily. His eyes darted from Will's face to the length of his ponytail which was now grasped in Will's hand as Will stared at him with a dark expression,

"The only reason you're not dead is because of your loyalty to him." Will stated coldly. And then apropos of nothing and not even sure when he'd decided it, he added, "But know this, he won't touch you again, not after tonight, never again. I _won't_ allow it," and he surprised himself by how seriously he meant this and how determined he was to make it _truth_ , "you will never _see_ him that way again." he finished quietly, tone as sharp and cutting as broken glass as he gave Randall a disdainful once over, the young prostitute's newly shorn hair fluttering about his face loosely and hanging just below his ears.

Finding himself entirely unimpressed, Will dismissed the sad sight of him at once when he turned on his heel to leave again.

He crossed the room a second time, pocketing Randall's bundled brown hair and wiping the blade of his knife off on his shirt sleeve before sheathing it again. But again Randall stopped him with words just when he was at the door,

"I never saw him _that way_ anyway." he amazingly still had the balls to sound annoyed. Will nearly scoffed at both his tone and his words, but then Randall cleared his raspy throat and added, "A little detail that is no secret, Mister Graham…" his voice was raw and quiet, "…he always requested that I enter the room first and that I blindfold myself the moment I did. And too, I could not remove the blindfold until after he'd left my company." he finished, sounding like it hurt to speak.

With his hand on the door handle and that strange and intriguing information sinking in, Will took a moment to consider Randall, and the fact that seeing him this evening had given Will a much needed push in the right direction. He reached into his front pocket then and pulled out two _doubloons_ , which was far more than a prostitute could ever be worth. He leaned over and set the gold coins down on the armrest of the ugly settee that was set beside the door and said dismissively,

"For your trouble." before he pulled the door open and stepped out.

He was just shutting it behind him when he glanced down the hall and saw a portly, rather politician looking man wobbling toward him. He was clearly drunk, his cheeks round and brightly red and his white wig sat crookedly on his head. He stopped a few feet away, looking nervous and uncertain to see Will standing at the room he was obviously intending to go into.

Will noted with some amusement that he was most definitely not Captain Lecter, and then he dismissively walked around the shorter man and down the hall the way he'd come. He'd turned the corner and was approaching the room he'd been in earlier when he heard a door open and close around the corner and he arched an eyebrow, shaking his head as he recalled that Randall had said this was what he was paid to do. He'd do it so long as he was paid, in the end. And feeling so much lighter after finding his own resolve on the matter of Captain Lecter, Will did not even feel bitter or begrudging about Randall anymore.

He knew though, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if it meant killing Randall and Clarice in order to make sure Captain Lecter never touched them again, he would. Captain Lecter would have to tell him to his face that he didn't want him if that was the case, but until then he'd kill anyone and everyone the Captain chose to use while ignoring him.

Will was not fond of games or being made a fool of, he would no longer just _wait_.

He'd walked back to the room that Anthony was waiting in and he opened the door and walked inside, glancing around to see that Anthony had relocated to reclining on the bed, now completely shirtless. The taller man sat up when he entered, immediately smiling in his handsome way as he leaned forward invitingly,

"That was quite a piss indeed, and while it's taken a chunk out of your time, I'm sure I can make it worth…you're leaving?" his voice shifted from inviting to amusedly confused.

"Yes." Will answered flatly, stepping over to retrieve his sword belt, replacing it on his hips and speaking as he fastened the leather firmly into the buckle and pin, "But don't concern yourself, you'll be paid for your time as I feel adequately satisfied." he informed Anthony flatly. The other man had stood up and was walking over with an amused frown, a smile forming too at having his words echoed back to him.

Anthony was apparently unfazed by the sudden change at least, just smirking as he stopped a few feet away with his hands on his naked, narrow hips,

"Is that right? I must be even better than I thought." he chuckled good naturedly, and Will's response to that comment was to dip his hand into his pocket, retrieving a single _doubloon_ before he tossed it neatly to the taller man, who snatched it out of the air easily and gave it a surprised and attentive once over before bringing up to his mouth and lightly biting it.

Will rolled his eyes at the implication that his coins might be fake and Anthony shrugged with a tilt of his head and his smile securely in place,

"Have to be certain." he winked, and then gave Will a rather suggestive once over, "Come back anytime. I was rather looking forward to our encounter this evening." he admitted.

Completely ignoring the latter comment, Will turned and left the room and Anthony behind him, striding the opposite way he'd come upstairs toward the other set of stairs that would lead him down to the main room where the exit was.

He had a new determination burning hot in his chest and making him impatient after his little run in with Randall, and he was absolutely dead set on making it a reality. He was done playing games with Hannibal Lecter, he wanted what he wanted and he was going after it, no holds barred.

* * *

He arrived back at The Ripper about 15 minutes later, striding with determination and confidence. His boots were once again clipping loudly against the wood of the ship as he walked up the gangplank and then across the quiet and empty deck toward the Captain's cabin doors.

Will stopped there, looking at the wooden doors before glancing over himself to make sure he was put together; his pants were fastened properly again, belt and shirt and torso holster all righted and his hat placed at the exact right angle on his head, shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms and his posture right and sure. Once he was certain he was ready, he knocked on the Captain's door twice firmly and loudly…

…and then he placed his hand on the handle and he opened it.

He knew, as they all did, that to just enter the Captain's cabin was beyond just being rude and frowned upon, it was downright dangerous, unacceptable. But Will knew he was already in enough danger being in love with a man, a pirate, who was quite frankly not even entirely human, so being frightened like every other crew member and every other person would do him no good.

He wanted this, he had to face it head on.

Will stepped inside and his eyes immediately fell on Captain Lecter.

Hannibal was stood at his large map table with his back facing the door, facing where Will stood. His posture was perfectly straight, his shoulders broad and his lean tall form adorned in all black and blood red clothes; leather, silk, metal and bone. The edge of his silhouette was tinged and glowing orange from the candles and lanterns lit around the cabin and he looked so intimidating and dangerous, as well as untouchable and ethereal.

He was beautiful and unnatural and so _other_ , and Will _wanted_ him.

He swallowed thickly after a beat of silence past, feeling overwhelmed with desire and a tingling, warm anticipation driven by an undercurrent of unique fear. He knew that the Captain knew someone had just entered the cabin uninvited, and somehow his absolute lack of reaction was far more terrifying than if he'd turned around and run Will through with the croupier stick he was holding in his hand at his side.

But the Captain didn't move, didn't make a sound, and Will felt fear claw its way up his throat rapidly, sticky and choking, feeling similar to how he'd felt when he'd first stepped into Captain Lecter's cabin years ago as just a weak, captive and lost nobleman with no direction in life, no strength to fight, nothing even to fight for.

He'd been **so** pathetic.

 _'But not anymore, never again.´_ he clenched his jaw, feeling unwavering conviction rushing through his veins at recalling himself being that way. It was liquid and forceful and so welcomed, spreading from the pit of endless darkness he'd long ago discovered inside of himself. He easily swallowed his fear then, before pushing the cabin door closed with a distinctive snick, closing out the sounds of the docks and the town and of the ocean water lapping against the ship's hull.

The crackling of the candles, lanterns and his own steady breathing were all the sounds left then… that was until, without moving and in an ominously dark tone, Captain Lecter spoke only three words.

"Good evening, Will."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, leave your thoughts?  
> [Tumblr](http://phenobarbitalfiction.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * ["Pirates of the Baltic" fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12049308) by [marlahanni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlahanni/pseuds/marlahanni)




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